


That Look In Your Eyes

by Tutselutse



Series: I Hate Everything But You [2]
Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Background Relationships, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Literally just Paul and Emma being disgustingly in love, Mild Sexual Content, Miscommunication, Paul Matthews F U C K S, Romantic Gestures, We meet Paul's family in this one, Weddings, character cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tutselutse/pseuds/Tutselutse
Summary: When Emma gets a small injury, she comes up with a plan to use Paul's health insurance.Continuation ofI Think I Like You
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Series: I Hate Everything But You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902307
Comments: 98
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me at the end of ITILY: i have a small follow up fic in the works  
> Me now: this bad boy is l o n g u e my dudes
> 
> It's gonna be four long ass chapters. I've been so excited to post this! I have most of it written already, except a few bits and most of it needs a LOT more editing. I hope y'all will like their future adventures.

Paul sits at his desk, typing away at on his keyboard. It's Monday, after lunch and everyone is a little tired from the weekend. Charlotte is on a call, and Bill is tapping against his desk as he thinks. It's a warm day in late June, and the air condition has been going on and off the past few weeks. Today is an off day, so Paul has removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Melissa walks past him, stopping and pointing at his empty mug.

"Want me to grab you some coffee?" she asks. She is holding her own mug.

"No, it's fine," Paul smiles, "Emma is on her way with coffee. But thanks."

"Say hi to her for me," Melissa grins, " _and_ remind her we are behind on karaoke nights."

"Will do," Paul nods. Melissa and Emma became friends disturbingly fast and they take their karaoke and tequila nights very seriously. He has fond memories of watching them sing terrible renditions of _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ and Shania Twain songs. He doesn’t like watching people sing, but he will gladly watch Emma do anything _._ He looks down at his phone, smiling at the background, which is a picture of Emma and Lettuce on the couch. There is a message from Emma, saying _im in line at starbucks. u gonna try something new today?_ Paul grins and types out _no thanks, just a black coffee._ She replies with a thumbs up and a winking emoji.

She stops by the office with coffee for him from time to time. It was a thing she started doing back when she still worked at Beanies. It’s over a year ago since she stopped. After she graduated community college this winter, she has worked as a greenhouse technician, while also assisting one of her professors with a research project in some biology thing Paul doesn't truly understand. He likes listening to her talking about it though. She has a few weeks off from the project this summer, so she has more time to bother Paul at work and it's one of his favorite things.

When it's time, he stands up and heads out of the office. Emma's standing just inside the doors, holding two to-go cups. Her hair is pinned up, and she's wearing loose shorts and a top with thin straps. She breaks into a smile, when she sees him, and Paul's heart does the same little skip it did the first time she smiled at him.

"Hey there," he says. She holds out the coffee, and he takes it, but she doesn't let go and her smile grows a little more teasing. Paul dips his head down and gives her a soft kiss. She takes her payment in kisses today. Sometimes it's in candy from the bowl on Melissa's desk.

"Hi," she says, when she has let go off the coffee, "can the others at work even concentrate, when you're dressed in your corporate slut outfit?" She gestures to his rolled-up sleeves and Paul laughs.

"Sadly no, I get hit on constantly," he jokes.

" _Ah_ man, if you leave me for Ted, my pride will never recover," she says. They both laugh. Paul kisses her again.

"Wanna sit outside?" he asks.

"Sure," she nods. He holds the door for her, and notices she walks a little weird as he follows her out. She's limping.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"It's nothing," she says, sitting down on the bench outside. She takes a sip of coffee and ignores the look he gives her.

"Em," he says, sitting down next to her.

"I stepped on some glass on the beach with Tim yesterday, and today it hurts to walk on," she explains, pointing to her right foot.

"Emma!" he can't help the tone of his voice. She tries to do a dismissive move with her hand, but Paul doesn't let it go. "Seriously, you should talk to your doctor."

"I don't wanna," she grumbles, drinking more coffee.

"It could be infected with something," Paul says, placing a hand on her arm. "I don't want you to lose your foot. I like your foot."

"Gross." Emma sends him a teasing grin. "I've been seeing you for three years without knowing you are a foot fetishist."

"I'm only a right foot fetishist," Paul says, doing his best to keep a straight face, "I don't care about the left one."

Emma laughs loudly, throwing her head back, and he smiles, as always happy to have caused it. " _Oh_ , so if I lose my right foot, you won't wanna fuck me anymore?"

"No, I guess not. What a bummer," he replies, and she snorts. They drink more coffee. "But seriously, talk to your doctor."

"Okay, I will," she says, placing a hand on his arm. She leans in and kisses him.

"Thanks," Paul says. They finish their coffee as they talk. He can't take a long break, but it's nice to sit out here in the sun and talk to Emma. She's teasing him as always, and Paul enjoys the way her brown eyes light up and how proud of herself she looks.

"I better get back to work," he says, standing up. He holds out his hand to help her up. Normally she'd scoff and push him away, but today she takes it and lets him help her to her feet. "Want me to help you get to the car?" he asks. She rolls her eyes.

"I'm parked right over there," she answers and points. Paul nods. "See you at home," Emma says, tiptoeing closer and placing a hand on his chest. They kiss goodbye, both lingering a little.

" _Oh_ , Melissa told me to remind you about karaoke night," Paul says before walking back indoors.

"Tell her I haven't forgotten," Emma says and does a finger gun. Paul grins. He watches her wobble towards her car, feeling a little worried. She's a stubborn asshole, and he knows it will take some persuading to get her to her doctor.

He walks back inside and heads upstairs. He gives Emma's response to Melissa, with the finger gun, and heads back to his desk.

Work flows easily, and he has time to listen to Bill complain about his ex-wife. “Alice and Deb have decided to take a road-trip in their vacation, and they’ve already agreed to go to my ex-wife’s Fourth of July party, so that will be my only chance to see her this summer.”

“Are you sure she won’t stop by you?” Paul asks, looking up from his computer. Bill looks tired around the eyes. He has handled his second year since Alice went to college a lot better than the first year. But Paul knows all Bill looks forward to is his daughter coming back for summer vacation.

“They borrow her mother’s car, so I don’t think so,” Bill says, “I really don’t want to go to the party, but I don’t have other plans and I want to see Alice.”

“I know, man,” Paul nods, “I wish I could offer to go with you, but we have plans already.”

“It’s okay,” Bill says and then he sighs, “I just really don’t want to talk to her new boyfriend _Derek.”_

“I understand,” Paul says with a laugh, “the guy sounds really weird.”

Finally, it's time to head home. In spring he got his bike fixed, after many encouragements from Emma, and whenever the weather is nice, he bikes to work. It's a good way to clear his head on the ride home. He isn't a big fan of extensive exercise, but this ride back and forth from work feels good. Plus, it makes his calves look nicer, which Emma has noted more than once.

He parks the bike under the overhang and locks it, then he takes off the helmet and carries it with him inside. He calls out a greeting, before heading directly upstairs to change into something more comfortable and more appropriate for the heat. He takes out his contacts and puts his glasses on. Emma has opened the windows in their bedroom and left the covers hanging out. She likes sleeping in them after they have been outside and gotten fresh air. Paul likes it too, and it always makes him smile to see her do something like that.

She had moved into his house slowly. They had been a few months into dating when he started noticing. First a toothbrush standing permanently next to his and then her preferred peach-scented shampoo and conditioner appeared in the shower. One day a straightening iron was left in the bedroom. She had begun leaving her laundry pretty early on, and at some point, Paul had stopped giving her the neatly folded piles back, and then instead he had just put it in one of his drawers after folding it.

Then a fresh basil, a mint and a cilantro appeared one by one on his kitchen counter, in little different colored pots. She started studying at his house, setting up on the far end of his dining table, spreading out loose paper sheets covered in notes, leaving open books and used coffee mugs when she went back home again. More food was in the fridge and in the freezer. He had their leftovers most days she was back at her apartment.

He had gotten a key made for her shortly after New Year's Eve and walked around with it for ages before giving it to her. After around a year of dating she hardly went home anymore, and one night after several glasses of wine, she had looked up at him and said _I gave my one months’ notice on the apartment yesterday_. He had gaped at her like a fish for a few seconds and then he had kissed her. A lot.

* * *

Emma is sitting on the couch, her leg stretched out, so her foot is elevated on a pillow. Lettuce is currently rolling around in front of the TV, playing with a mouse toy. She hears Paul enter the house and yell out a hello, before heading upstairs. Emma continues drinking a can of soda and scrolling through her phone.

She had been planning to make them dinner, but she suddenly needed to rest the foot. She can hear Paul come back downstairs and looks up at him as he enters the living room. She's a little disappointed by him having changed out of his white shirt and rolled up sleeves. She might tease him about it and call it his corporate slut outfit, but truth be told, she likes the look on him. _A lot._ He has put on glasses though, so she forgives him. They make him look really cute.

"Hi," she says, and he gives her a brief kiss, before sitting down on the couch. He looks at her bare foot, and his face fills with concern and what seems to be irritation. She knows it doesn't look pretty, the skin around the cut is red and swollen and a little shiny.

"Em, this is clearly inflamed," Paul says, frowning at her.

"I know," she says, "the doctor thinks I should go to the emergency room."

He sputters a little. "Why haven't you?"

"That phone consultation alone cost money," she says, "I don't have health insurance that covers this. Going to the emergency room will cost me thousands of dollars."

Paul sighs and rubs his temples. "Right. Our country is fucked. I forgot."

"It'll be fine," Emma promises, "I'll just take a lot of foot baths and, y'know, squeeze out the pus."

" _Ew_ ," Paul says and scrunches his nose. It pushes his glasses up a little, and Emma can't help but smile. He places his hand on her ankle, moving his thumb across her skin. "I just think it would be better to get it checked. I mean, what if it's a deep cut?" he seems to think to himself for a moment. "It's too bad you can't use my health insurance. But that would only be possible if we were related. Or married, so..." his voice trails off.

Emma looks at him for a moment. _Huh_. Married. She has never really thought of herself as the marrying kind, always thought that _this_ was enough. They both know they love each other and want to be together. Why get the authorities involved in that? But getting married for that sweet health insurance seems like a pretty obvious and easy solution. "So, let's get married then," she suggests. Paul's eyes grow large behind the glasses. Even larger than normal.

" _Whaaat_?" he sounds all squeaky and surprised.

"I'm serious," she says, "let's just get married."

"Emma," he says softly, "are you sure?"

"Yeah, totally. I mean, foot aside, it just seems easier all around." She can't help but smile. Being married to Paul wouldn't really be much different than what they are already doing, plus, she is planning on spending the rest of her life with him anyway. She opens her phone again and looks for information about how fast they can get married. " _Oh,_ dope. We can head down to the courthouse and get hitched. Like, tomorrow. Can you take a long lunch break?" she looks up at him.

"Sure," he shrugs, still touching her ankle. "I can make time to marry you."

"Awesome," Emma nods. She gets everything settled with a surprisingly little amount of typing and then it's a thing. They are getting married. "I'll meet you at the courthouse at 11.30," she tells Paul. He smiles and leans closer and kisses her.

"I'll see you there," he mumbles against her lips. Emma melts into the kiss, deepening it. Her hand cups his jaw, and she can't help but smile a little.

"I love you," she tells him.

"I love you too," he says, and smiles. His beautiful eyes light up as he says the words. Emma has gotten more and more used to saying it out loud. She has loved him for a long time, pretty much as long as they have been dating for real. It took her some time to come to terms with it though. She remembers the first time they said it. It was a late night, and she was staying over at the house. He had insisted on doing the dishes before they went to bed, and after some protesting, she had complied. They had been standing in the kitchen, Emma doing the washing and Paul doing the drying and then he had looked down at her and just said _I love you._ She had almost dropped the wooden cutting board she was washing. It was sudden and out of nowhere, but she had liked hearing it. _I love you too_. Her voice had been low, and she was surprised he could hear it. But he clearly did because a huge grin spread across his face. Then he had dipped his head down and kissed her. This time she _had_ dropped the cutting board, and wrapped her arms around him, getting soapy water all over him. It had taken some time before she said it again. Back then he had said it more often than her, but she slowly grew more comfortable with saying it. Even saying it at times when he didn't immediately say it back.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asks.

"Something easy," Paul says, leaning back in his seat and sighing.

"Like me?" Emma jokes and he laughs. Back when they started, he would have gotten so flustered. He still blushes, but now he also sends her wolf-y grin and she knows she has something to look forward to tonight. 

"Takeout?" he asks.

"I'm in," she agrees. They order food and get settled in front of the TV. They end the night like she had been looking forward too, and she makes a joke about breaking normal traditions about the night before a wedding.

Their morning routine is pretty settled, but ever since she got time off Hidgens’ project, she has liked to sleep in a little longer on those days, getting up right as Paul leaves. He usually starts the coffee machine, so there is fresh coffee waiting for her when she finally drags herself downstairs. Paul had let her pack his matching mugs away, and instead the cabinet is full of mugs with different colors, patterns and shapes. She takes one of her own favorite mugs, which matches the one she got Paul, except it says _shhhh... no one cares._

She drinks coffee while limping around the house, watering the few plants they have and making sure Lettuce has water and dry food. Her foot hurts today too, and she tries to put as little weight on it as possible. Then she makes herself toast. She spends a long time deciding on what to wear. She doesn't want to look like she dressed up for this, but her gym shorts seem a little too relaxed. She decides on a simple green sundress. It's still warm as hell and the fabric clings to her body as she limps out to her car.

Paul is waiting by the courthouse and he beams at her when he sees her. _Nerd_. She hopples over to him and grins. He wraps an arm around her and supports her up the stairs. It feels pretty fucking surreal to stand and wait for someone to let them in and marry them. Paul glances down at her from time to time, and they exchange smiles.

Finally, a judge comes out, and they follow her into the office. The documents are laid out, and they sign them, and then they face each other. Emma's foot is throbbing a little because she's wearing a closed shoe. Paul holds out his hands and she takes them. It doesn't seem like it's actually happening, but then the judge is asking them and they both say _I do_.

"Then I declare you husband and wife," the judge says.

" _Oh_ , that's it?" Emma asks, looking at her. She nods.

"Yes, you're married," she replies. _Huh_. Emma looks back up at Paul. He's smiling in disbelief, and his eyes look a little watery. She has just married this dumbass, who picks up her dirty socks after her and laughs at all her jokes, no matter how bad they are. They are married. Three years ago, she wasn't ready to be his girlfriend and now her heart is pounding in her chest and she can't stop smiling because he is her husband. He is hers. He looked at her in the rain three years ago and told her he liked her so much it was ridiculous and after three whole years of her bullshit and teasing and issues, he has agreed to be hers for the rest of his life. Tears well up in her eyes too.

"You're so beautiful," Paul says, his voice a thick and shaky.

"Stop," Emma says and sniffles. The amount of emotions hitting her is a surprise. She hadn't expected to feel this _much_ , to be so overwhelmed with how much she loves him. "I'm so happy," she says and lets go of his hand to wipe a tear away. Paul copies her, wiping away his own. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Em," he says and they both laugh as tears spill down their cheeks and then Paul's hand is on her jaw and he kisses her tenderly and with love. Emma lets herself fall into the kiss, holding onto the back of his head. They pull back, smile at each other and then they hug. Emma rest her head against his chest and more tears spill. _Fuck,_ she has really gotten soft.

They take their marriage certificates and the judge wishes them good luck, and then they walk back outside. "So, what do you wanna do now?" Emma asks him as they walk through the lobby. "Go eat chocolate cake? Find a utility closet and bang?"

"I'm taking you to the emergency room," Paul says with determination.

"Wow, lamest honeymoon ever," Emma replies.

"Shut up," Paul replies, and wraps his arm around her. Emma isn't sure if he only wants to help her down the stairs or if he also wants to make sure she doesn't run away. Paul somehow fits his bike in the back of her car and then drives it to the hospital and helps her inside. The trip to the hospital goes smoothly, and even though they just got married, the health insurance works, and then they have a prescription for antibiotics and Paul drives her home, picking up the medicine on the way. He insists on carrying her bridal style up the porch and over the doorstep. "Welcome home, my bride," he says, before gently putting her down.

"Thank you, darling husband," Emma replies with a smirk. She grabs his tie and pulls him into a kiss. He makes a little noise, before his mouth opens and his hands land on her waist. Emma hums in satisfaction, deepening the kiss more. It's sending warmth into the pit of her stomach and she's getting a little impatient for more.

"I have to head back to work," Paul says suddenly, pulling back.

"No," Emma says and kisses him again with more neediness. He kisses her back and his hand is definitely inching down to her ass little by little.

"I have to," he says with a groan. Emma pouts and trails her fingers down his chest. He picks her up bridal style again and continues into the house. He places her on the couch and she's about to pull him down with her when he grabs her wrists. " _You_ need to rest and take your antibiotics."

"Are you not gonna fuck me on our actual wedding day?" she asks, and the dissatisfied tone is only a little fake.

"Day's not over yet," Paul says with a smirk, "the sooner you let me go back to work, the sooner I can come back and perform my husbandly duties."

Emma snorts. "That better involve your face between my legs, bub."

"Emma," Paul says seriously, "I fully expect you to not be able to walk tomorrow, regardless of the state of your foot."

She lets out a surprised _ha!_ and then bites her lip. She didn't mean to laugh, she is just so taken aback, but Paul's face falls a little. "That... was _hot_ ," she tells him. He kisses her again. "I expect to hold you to that," she mumbles against his lips, "and there will be complaints if you don't live up to it."

He leaves her there and she leans back into the couch and sighs. It's a good couch. They have two now, a dark grey with room for three and a matching loveseat. The old one had been nice enough, but it was a little old and even though Lettuce didn't scratch it and Paul was good at cleaning off the cat hair, it was worn down. She had not-so-gently let him know she wanted a new one, and after some consideration Paul had agreed.

Most of the furniture is still Paul's. The dining table fits perfectly in the dining room, but she convinced him to get new curtains. Paul was of course attached to his things, but he was eager to make the house feel like hers. She has a plan to paint the kitchen cabinets and cupboards, she just needs to get him onboard with a more fun color.

Emma gets up and limps out to get the antibiotics and a glass of water. She reads the restrictions on when to take them, and then she limps back to the couch. She likes that Paul looks after her. He cares a lot and has a tendency to worry more than her. She smiles to herself as she gets comfortable against the pillows. She fucking married him today.

She thinks back on the time the first time they talked at the bar. When she had bumped into him in the bathroom and something about him made her drag him along for another beer. And then they talked. And kissed outside. She's thankful he finally got her hint and invited her home with him. And now they are actually married. Like real grown-ups. She never expected her life to take this turn, but then again, she never expected to meet anyone like Paul. Sure, the arrangement was about sex, but it turns out Paul is exactly the kind of partner she needs.

Paul is sweet and patient and his own brand of weird. It's ridiculously cute. He is able to keep up with her teasing and joking, but at the same time she can still throw him off and make him flustered. Both things make her feel really good deep into her bones. Even when he's being stupid or too much of a neat freak or just awaiting her initiative, he is still her absolute favorite person to be around. Ever since they started dating, she has caught herself comparing others to him. She'll look at someone on the street and think _Paul's shoulders are nicer_. Or notice how most white boys don't have lips like him. Obviously, no one has eyes that match his in color and brightness.

And now he has married her and forced her to get help for her foot. It's honestly unbelievable. Especially the fact that it makes her so happy.

* * *

Paul has a hard time controlling the wide grin on his face as he heads back into the office. He knows he should be able to squeeze in a few more hours of work, but if he is being honest, he doesn't know if he will be able to concentrate. He stands in the doorway and watches the open office space and all the cubicles and desks. It looks the same as when he left, but everything is different, because he is married now.

He married the latte hottay.

The image of Emma saying _I do_ plays on repeat in his head and every time his heart feels like it might burst his whole chest open. Emma has just married him. She never expressed a desire to get married, in fact she would scrunch up her nose whenever she mentioned other people's weddings. But here they are. _Married_.

Paul walks over to his desk and starts his pc back up. Then he heads into the little break room to pour himself a cup of coffee. Ted is scouring through the fridge, checking out the others’ lunches, and Charlotte is sipping her usual chamomile tea and reading the paper.

"Did you have a nice lunch with Emma?" Charlotte asks, looking up and sending him a wide smile. She's been a lot happier these past few weeks. Paul has wanted to ask why, but he hasn't figured out how to do so without sounding weird.

"I did, yes," Paul nods, again breaking into the biggest grin.

"Why are you smiling like that? It's creepy," Ted asks, looking up.

"I'm not," Paul says, still smiling wide.

"Did you steal some of Mr. Davidson's Prozac?" Ted asks, narrowing his eyes.

"No," Paul laughs.

" _Oh_ ," Ted suddenly smiles slyly, "I know what happened. You and the lil barista had lunch, eh? _Eh_? Some afternoon delight?"

"Ted!" Charlotte protests. Ted gestures at her, like she's being unreasonable. Paul just rolls his eyes. He nods at them both and returns to his seat. He isn't really sure if he should tell them or not. He forgot to ask Emma what she wants. He decides to keep it quiet for now. Melissa makes a grimace at him from across the room and he feels guilty for not telling her. Not only has she been invested since the beginning for him, she and Emma are friends now too.

Bill walks over, smiling at Paul. "I've decided to go to my ex-wife's party after all. I want to see Alice."

"That's great," Paul says, "I know Alice will appreciate that."

"Thanks," Bill nods, "now I just have to make something really delicious to bring along."

"Everything isn't a competition," Paul says and Bill shakes his head.

"With her, it is," he sighs. 

Paul actually manages to get some work done, and then he is ready to head home. First, he orders some sushi to pick up on the way. He also stops and buys them some sparkling wine, some of the fancy stuff Ted is always going on about. Ted may be a sleazy dude and a weird kinda-friend, but he knows his shit when it comes to wine. Balancing everything he bikes home carefully. He walks into the house, glancing into the living room. Emma is where he left her, looking like she's asleep. He puts the champagne (" _It's not champagne, Paul. It's from Italy.")_ in the fridge and places the food on the kitchen table. This feels like a dining room night. He grabs plates, the chopsticks and starts setting the dining table.

Emma likes candles, so he lights two, before carrying the food in there and getting it all ready. It hits him again that they are married now. Like, actually married. She's the girl of his dreams and she said _yes_ to being with him for the rest of her life. Paul smiles to himself as he reflects on their relationship. She started off as someone he pined for. Someone who interested him, who he was incredibly attracted to without even knowing her. He was just drawn to her from the first moment he saw her there in Beanies, being rude to a customer. Then for some reason she had kissed him that night at the bar. And he had burned and pined and fallen harder and harder as their arrangement went on. And along the way she had fallen too. Paul places the napkins on their plates and blinks to stop himself from crying again.

Now she isn't something he pines for, she isn't this unknowable, mysterious woman, briefly allowing him to be a part of her life. No, now she's a real person and he _knows_ her. He knows when she needs space, when he can push her, he knows her weird habits, like chewing on her pencils. He knows where she keeps her emergency cigarettes for the bad days, and he takes pride in the fact that she hasn't needed them in a long time. Paul walks into the hallway and looks through the large closet full of crap, trying to find the champagne bucket Ted got them when they moved in together. He finds it in the back and almost laughs. The mop is in it. He shakes his head fondly and takes out the mop and picks up the bucket.

He washes the bucket first, before filling it with ice. He is looking forward to celebrating today with her. He wakes up every morning and can't believe his luck, when he sees her there next to him. He truly hit the jackpot, but it's more than that now. She gives him a sense of belonging and purpose. Like he is here for a reason. The more they are together, the more he is convinced of how well they fit together. She pushes him to speak up, he helps her keep grounded. Most importantly she makes him feel at ease. At peace with himself. And he is bold enough to believe he does the same to her.

When he walks back into the living room, Emma is sitting up and blinking sleepily. "You're back," she says.

"It's dinner time," Paul tells her. She has a red line on her cheek from a crease in the pillow. Her eyes are dark and warm as she looks at him.

"Nice," she says and swings her legs down. "by the way, Lettuce took a huge crap in the litterbox. You should probably throw it out."

"You couldn't do it earlier?" Paul asks with an eyebrow raised.

"No, I was told to rest and not use my foot too much," she says, sending him a smug grin. Paul rolls his eyes.

"You're the worst wife I've ever had," he says, holding out a hand to help her up.

"You bet I am," she says, still grinning, "now that you've said yes to me for life, I'm gonna stop being nice."

"Oh no," Paul says sarcastically, "I wonder what that's like."

"You won't know what's coming, bub," she says, grabbing his tie and pulling him into a kiss. He cups her jaw, returning the kiss.

"Come on," he whispers, "food's ready."

"Don't forget to clean up after your cat," Emma says as she begins limping towards the dining room.

" _Oh_ , she's _my_ cat now, but when it's cuddle time she's _our_ cat?" Paul questions, following Emma. She turns her head and looks at him through narrowed eyes.

"That was basically Lion King," she says, sending him a gleaming smile.

"Damn, you're right," he laughs. He decides to clean up after Lettuce right away. He might as well get it over with. He knows he is whipped, but he doesn't care. He hears Emma make an appreciative noise when she sees the dining room. After washing his hands, he joins her. She pops the bottle and pour them both glasses. "You are pulling out all the stops, huh?"

"Yeah," Paul nods and sits down. He grabs the glass. "Cheers. _Wife._ "

"You're gonna be terrible, aren't you?" she says, but her eyes shine warmly.

"Count on it," he promises. They sip their bubbles and start eating. Emma stuffs a maki roll with crispy shrimp topped with salmon into her mouth and makes a noise when she struggles to chew.

"So, tell me," she says, after she has finished chewing, "did you blabber to everyone at work the moment you stepped in?"

"I didn't," Paul answers truthfully, "I considered it, but we haven't really discussed that."

" _Oh_ ," Emma says and looks at him for a moment. "Thank you."

"I do wanna tell them. Especially Bill and Alice," he says, and then after a moment he adds, "and Melissa will kill us, if she finds out we didn't tell her."

"She will," Emma nods, sipping more wine. "This stuff tastes really good by the way."

"It's one of the bottles Ted recommends," he says, taking another sip himself.

"You should definitely tell Bill and Alice," Emma says with a smile. Paul grins. Alice adores Emma, and it always makes him feel warm inside to see how his own little found family embrace her. Bill and Emma predictably bonded over cooking and neither Paul, Alice nor Deb are allowed in the kitchen when they work. Paul suspects they gossip about him, but he doesn't mind.

"Are you going to tell Tom and Tim?" he asks. Paul has had exactly three good conversations with Tom Houston, otherwise it's been mostly polite small talk and awkward silences. However, he gets along well with Tim. They share a love for board games. Emma is usually too impatient for the games, and if she plays, she gets so grumpy, when she loses. Paul is certain he is the only one who finds her sour mood adorable.

"I am yeah," she says, sipping more, "I was thinking of pulling them aside at the Fourth of July party."

"That's a good idea," Paul says with a smile.

"I'll tell Hidgens next time I see him," she continues. Paul never really seem to get their relationship. Hidgens was her professor, now her boss, but he is also family in a way.

"Speaking off all this," Paul says, "do we want rings?"

"Oh shit, rings!" Emma laughs, "yeah, sure. Why not?"

Paul feels a warmth spread through his stomach. He loves the idea of having something that shows the world they are together, like a pair of rings. He sips more sparkling wine and tries to take a tuna nigiri, but Emma's chopsticks push his away. They laugh, continuing the playful fight. Emma surrenders in the end and empties her glass. Paul picks up the bottle and pours them more. Emma's cheeks are red and she's giggling a little still. He frowns.

"Shit, Emma, you're on antibiotics," he says, immediately stopping.

"So?"

"So, alcohol hits harder," he says, "no more for you."

"No way!" she protests, and Paul _knows_ her, he knows exactly what she's about to do, so he grabs her glass and drinks the content before she can. "Paul!"

"I'm looking out for you," he says with a chuckle, grabbing his own and finishing that before she can. She pouts for a moment, but then she resumes eating. Paul does the same, keeping half an eye on the bottle. His plan worked, except for the fact that he is quite buzzed himself now. _Oh well_. He'll just make sure to drink more water.

When they are done eating, and both slumping in their seats, Paul lets her have half a glass more. He pours the rest into his own glass, briefly noting that he ended up drinking most of the bottle himself. What a selfish husband he is being. The thought makes him giggle. Emma sips from her glass and watches him.

"You're drunk," she says.

"Only a little," he says and giggles again.

"I like drunk Paul," she says and smiles. They talk a little longer, agreeing to tell people after getting rings. After some resting, Paul's stomach isn't uncomfortably full anymore. He insists on being the one cleaning up, but once he stands in front of the sink and looks at the plates, he decides against doing it now. He turns on the faucet and lets water flow over them for a moment, and then he shuts it back off and turns around. Emma is standing in the door, holding her almost empty glass. "You're not cleaning up?"

"I'm gonna let it wait," he says.

"I'm rubbing off on you. _Nice_ ," she grins.

"Yeah," Paul leans against the sink, ignoring how a bit of water seeps into the top of his pants. "I seem to remember a promise I have to fulfill."

" _Oh_ yeah," Emma's grin grows coyer. "You gonna show me your moves then?"

" _Oh_ , you bet," he says, trying to sound smoother than he is. He gets up and walks over to her, taking the glass from her hand. He places it on the nearby table, and then he steps close, so he is all up in her face.

"Bring it on, slim," she says. Paul kisses her urgently, making them both step backwards so she's trapped between him and the wall next to the door. Emma makes a needy noise in the back of her throat and her fingers tighten in the fabric of his shirt. He trails his hands down her sides, one settling on her waist. He bends his knees, so he can reach and lift her right leg up. Emma's grips him and pulls herself up, wrapping both legs around his hips. The kiss breaks momentarily as he positions her right and then he pushes her closer against the wall. Her mouth is warm and open, and her kisses send electricity down his spine.

Paul loves their difference in height normally, but especially when he can do this. With her hands holding onto him, and by pressing her against the wall, she won't fall down. It makes it so easy to run a hand up under her dress and touch the top of her thigh gently. Emma moans and her teeth scrape along his lip. His other hand palms her over the dress.

"Are we going to attempt boning against the wall again?" she asks, sounding out of breath.

"Do you want to?" Paul asks, trailing kisses down her neck.

"I mean -" she pants, "it would be hot. But attempting it sober - might be smarter."

"Aye, ma'am," he mumbles against her skin. He rolls his hips, so he presses against her and they both groan. "Upstairs then?"

"Yes, please," she says and tugs at his hair. He puts her down gently, so he instead can lift her bridal style again. "Paul, you nerd."

"Can't a man carry his wife to bed?" he jokes.

"Okay, okay, macho man," she laughs. Carrying her isn't too hard like this. He has gotten better at it since the first time he tried it. He places her on the bed, and they resume their kissing horizontally. Emma pulls his shirt out of his pants and begins unbuttoning it. Paul lifts himself up on his elbows, so she has better access. He leans on his right arm, so he can run a hand up underneath her dress again. Emma pants and her fingers moves through his buttons faster. "So, was the promise about me not being able to walk just talk?" Emma asks suddenly. Paul looks down at her. She's smirking up at him, a defiant look in her eyes. He opens his mouth to reply but changes his mind. Instead he pins her hands into the mattress and kisses her deeply, lingering before moving down and trailing kisses along her neck and collarbones.

He lets go off her wrists and pushes her dress up past her hips. Her underwear is thin deep purple lace. He hisses at the sight and pulls it down her legs. He can hear Emma's breath hitch and smiles to himself. He lifts her ankle, presses a kiss against it and then he moves himself down between her legs.

"I'm still only hearing talk and seeing no ac-" Emma starts, but he doesn't let her finish. Her leg rest over his shoulder and her hand finds his hair.

Paul is determined to live up to the promise he so boldly made earlier, trying to sound smooth and sexy. Luckily, he knows how to do this. Emma moans and writhes and even though he takes a small break to see how she is, he doesn't let her move or start anything. His own arousal only grows from the noises she makes and how she feels, but he doesn't mind waiting. She compliments him often for this, and he has grown more confident in his own skill. A little bolder even. Like now, where he keeps going, until he is told he should stop.

"I need - a break," she says finally. He places her leg back on the mattress gently and crawls up next to her. Hair is sticking to her forehead and her chest is moving up and down as she catches her breath. Her eyes look glazed over and her bottom lip looks red from biting.

"So, did I keep my promise?" he asks, placing a hand on her waist and kissing her cheek.

"Fuck you," she mutters, "yes you did."

"Well, a man has to treat hi-"

"I swear if you call me your wife again, I am going to get an annulment," Emma says and then her mouth is back on his and she kisses him hungrily while pushing him over, so he’s on his back. She is not wasting time with opening his belt and starting to undress him, stirring an impatience in him. "Luckily, I managed to stop you before I lost the ability to have sex," she says and kisses him again, pushing his pants and boxers down.

"Wait," Paul says, looking up at her as she straddles him, "do you not like being called my wife?"

Emma looks at him for a moment. Then she places her hands on the sides of his face. "I like it. I promise. I just wanted you to shut up and stop being so full of yourself." She adds the last bit with a smile, letting him know she's teasing and then she kisses him softly. "I'm gonna fuck you now, okay?"

"Okay," he smiles, anticipation tingling his skin. "I love you so much."

"I love you too. Husband."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also heavily inspired by Crazy ex-Girlfriend, specifically one of the plotlines in ep 4x03.  
> That's all I'm gonna say tho. No spoilers :D 
> 
> I hope y'all liked this first chapter. I had so much fun writing it! <3 I love you, thanks for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost 9k. I don't know what happened. I love writing them too much. (there is probably a kill your darlings lesson here somewhere....)  
> Anyway, we'll see some familiar faces and enjoy a day in the sun with the newly married couple. Disclaimer: I have never been to a 4th of July party, so I'm legit just winging it.

Paul doesn’t bother getting dressed after waking up, instead heading downstairs in the t-shirt and boxers he slept in. He is greeted by a wonderful smell from the kitchen and a cat ready to be pet. After sitting down and scratching Lettuce's chin and running his hand over her a few times, he gets up and heads towards the kitchen. Emma is listening to an easygoing indie playlist, and she is in the middle of baking. After a small week on antibiotics her foot is back to normal and the cut has almost sealed itself up. She looks up when he enters and grins. She has a stripe of flour on her cheek and her hair is a little frazzled.

"Hey," she says and wipes her forehead. Paul walks over and kisses her, before washing the cat hair off his hands. He looks at the simple silver band on his left ring finger and smiles. He still isn't used to wearing it, and it brings a smile to his face whenever he notices, like when he washes his hands.

He grabs a cup of coffee and sits down at the small breakfast table. He stretches out his legs and sighs. "Let me know if you need a hand."

"It's okay, you relax there in your pjs," Emma says with a smile, "I like doing this myself anyway."

"Thanks," he says. He places the coffee on the table and notices Emma's ring lying next to her bracelet. Taking it off when cooking is probably a good idea. They picked them up a few days ago and the day after he announced it at work. Melissa had huffed at not being invited, but then she had punched him on the arm and said _congrats man_. Bill had hugged him and immediately called Alice. Charlotte had also given him a hug, and Ted offered him a clap on the shoulder. Then Alice was on the phone, screaming in his ear.

"Got anything funny to entertain me with?" Emma asks, beginning to roll out the dough.

"I don’t know,” he shrugs, "Ted keeps skulking around Charlotte. I feel like something is going on."

"Oh my God, you guys are such gossips at that office," Emma laughs. She continues working and Paul watches her in awe. He loves watching her cook. She's good at it, and she always seems to enjoy herself and relax. Today she's a little on edge though. Blowing hair out of her face and sighing.

"You okay?" he asks, leaning forward when she curses again and starts over on the dough for the second pie again.

"Yeah, I'm _fine_ ," she says in a tone that very clearly indicates she is not. Paul gets up and walks over. He places his hands on her shoulders and begins massaging her.

"The pies are going to be great," he promises, kissing the top of her head. She mumbles something and hangs her head forward and relaxes into the touch.

"Are three pies going to be enough?" she asks.

"I don't know, did Tom say how many guests they were having?" Paul asks. He stops massaging and just wraps his arms around her shoulders and rest his head against hers. She places her hands on his arms and gives him a squeeze.

"I don't think so, but I am sure it's many people," she sighs. "Why did I agree to bake these pies?"

"Because Becky asked you nicely," Paul answers. Emma groans.

"I blame you for turning me soft," she says. She turns around and stands on her tiptoes and looks at him.

"Want me to call and ask them if three is enough?" Paul offers.

"That's be great," she says, placing her index finger under his chin and pulls him into a kiss. They've been married for over a week now and Paul really loves it. It's dumb but it's fantastic.

"I'll be right back," he says, and then gives her another kiss. He leaves the kitchen and finds his phone. He dials as he walks back downstairs. It rings a few times and then Becky's cheerful voice sounds.

" _Hi Paul_!" she greets.

"Hey Becky, am I interrupting anything?" he asks, looking at Lettuce as she stretches in the windowsill.

" _No, not at all. We are setting up_ ," she answers.

"I just have a quick question," Paul says, walking over, so he can run his hand down Lettuce's back. "Emma wants to know if three pies will be enough or if she has to make four?"

" _Oh, three should be enough_ ," Becky says.

"Thank you," Paul says, "I won't disturb you anymore. See you later."

" _Oh no problem. Thank you for asking_ ," Becky says, " _Tim is yelling at me to say hi_."

"Hi Tim," Paul says, still petting Lettuce.

“ _See you, Paul_ ,” Becky says.

Paul walks back into the kitchen and tells the news to his sweet wife. She mumbles something and continues baking. Paul decides to check his work email, just to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

Once the apple pies are ready and cooling down, Emma takes a long shower. Paul is in the bathroom too, sneaking glances at her as she showers. After applying plenty of sunscreen and letting it dry, Paul gets dressed in his light blue shirt, with short sleeves, and the grey shorts. They are a nice breathable fabric and Emma usually compliments his ass when he wears them. He has put in his contacts and he takes the sunglasses he got last summer. They fit nicely in his breast pocket. Then he walks down to the kitchen and drinks a glass of water.

Emma comes down around twenty minutes later. She's dressed in a soft, white shirt and one of her many pairs of denim shorts. These are the ones where the hem is folded, so they don't look like she made them herself with a pair of scissors. Her hair is in a bun and the lipstick is a shade redder than she usually wears. Paul's stomach flutters at the sight. She has a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses pushed up in her hair.

"You look great," he says, stepping over to her. He sneaks a hand into her back pocket, and she laughs.

"You look pretty good yourself," she says and kisses him. " _Oops_." She wipes lipstick off his lips with her thumb, resting her hand against his jaw. He can feel her ring, as the metal is a little cool against his skin. He smiles at her and gives her ass a squeeze.

"Let's go," he says. She's smiling at him, something fond and playful flickering in her eyes.

"I love you," she says.

"I love you too," he replies. The words never cease to make him flutter. Every time he hears them, he gets warm and tingly and so happy. Especially at times like this when she seems to say them out of nowhere. Like it just occurs to her and she needs him to know.

They carry their things and the pies into her car, and she drives them over to Tom's house. Many people are already parked on the street, and Emma makes a noise as they have to park the car a little far from the house. There are flags in the driveway and up the path to the house, and they can hear chatter from the backyard. Another pair of guests is standing on the front porch, and the door is opened just as they reach them. More chatting and greeting, as the other two are ushered inside and instructed to go through and into the back. Paul and Emma wait in the entrance and then Becky Barnes comes gliding towards them, smiling widely. She looks great, wearing a blue dress with a white belt, a pair of high-heeled sandals and her long hair is in a high ponytail.

"Paul! Emma!" she says, sounding in a great mood, "so great to see you!"

"Hi Becky," Paul greets, giving her a one-armed hug, while making sure he doesn't drop the two pies he’s holding.

"Hey," Emma nods, lifting the last pie.

"Let's get those into the fridge, follow me," Becky gestures. They do as they are told. When the pies are in the fridge, Becky smiles again. "Thank you so much for baking them, Emma. Tom and I never got the hang of baking, but you are so good at it. It's such a big help."

Emma makes a noise and shrugs. Paul almost elbows her in the ribs. "You're welcome," she finally says.

"Everyone is in the backyard, so just head out there, grab a beer or a soda and some snacks. Tom is going to grill hot dogs and burgers later." she points to the glass door in the back of the kitchen, standing open into the yard. Paul nods and pulls Emma along.

" _Tom and I_ ," Emma mocks under her breath.

"Be nice," Paul says with a chuckle, "you are the one who made a really good pie for them last year to smite her."

"You're not supposed to remember that stuff," Emma grumbles. They stop on the back porch and look at all the people standing about, drinking and talking. Becky has many friends, and Paul understands why. She's so sweet and open. Easy to get along with. He wonders if that's one of the reasons Emma doesn't like her. It's been a little over a year since Becky and Tom started dating again and Emma hasn’t warmed up to her yet. "I'm going to need a beer. Now."

"Let's find some alcoholic beverages," Paul says.

Once they do, Emma is tackled into a hug by Tim. He's gotten a lot taller in the past three years, now able to rest his head on Emma's shoulders. "Easy there, kiddo," she laughs and messes with his hair, before squeezing him closer. Tim looks up at Paul expectantly.

"Paul, do you wanna play _Settlers of Catan_?" he asks, clearly excited.

"Yeah, of course," Paul says, "if we can sit in the shade."

" _Yes!_ " Tim does an air punch, "we can sit over there." He points to a table near the porch and then he lets go of Emma and runs off.

"Wow, rude," Emma says, "I know he hugged _me_ , but I feel ignored."

"You can always join us," Paul says, sending her a shit-eating grin.

" _Ugh_ , no," she shakes her head.

"Suit yourself," Paul says, and kisses her on the cheek before walking over to the table Tim pointed out.

* * *

Emma watches Paul sit down at the table in the shade, and Tim comes running with a game in his hands. They are her two nerds, and her heart swells whenever they get along. Even if she doesn’t have the patience for board games herself.

“He has been talking about playing with Paul for ages,” Tom’s voice sounds next to her. She looks up at him and smiles. He is dressed as he always is, jeans, white shirt and an open flannel.

“Hey,” she says, opening her can of beer. “I can imagine. It’s good someone wants to play these games with Paul.”

“Yeah and Tim,” Tom nods, “he could play it all day, but I sure don’t have the patience.”

“Likewise,” Emma says, and she holds out her beer in a silent toast, and Tom knocks his beer into it gently. They drink deeply and watch the party. Emma figures now is as good a time as any to tell Tom about getting married. She clears her throat, but then two more guests arrive, swarming Tom with hellos and praise for the party.

“Emma Perkins,” a nasal voice sounds and a hand lands on her shoulder. She looks up at the large glasses and round face of Gary Goldstein.

“Gary,” she says in greeting, “I haven’t seen you in ages.” They were somewhat friends in High School. Or, whenever Gary got sick of his over-achiever friends and wanted some weed, he would find Emma behind the bleachers. It was a flimsy high school friendship neither of them had been proud of, but still enjoyed. Gary liked the same music as her and wanted to watch cartoons and get high. Neither of them had tried to keep it alive after he graduated.

“How are things?” he asks, and without waiting for a response, he continues, “I suppose congratulations are in order. I was at the courthouse last week and saw you,” he grins, “congratulations on getting married!”

His voice is stupidly loud, and Tom and the others’ heads snap up. “You got married, Emma?” Tom asks, his eyes narrowed. She lifts her hand weakly, showing them the ring.

“ _Uh_ , yeah,” she says, “it was kind of an impulse thing. We figured… some stuff would be easier.” It sounds lame and not romantic and Tom’s gaze falls a little. Is he _disappointed_? Because she got married for practicality or because he wasn’t invited?

“Well, that’s romantic,” Gary laughs, clapping her on the shoulder. Emma fights the urge to tell him to shut up. Fucking asshole, revealing her wedding before her.

“Congratulations,” Tom says, and the two others follow suit.

“Thank you,” Emma mumbles and drinks more beer. This could potentially be a very long party. Tom excuses himself and heads over to Becky, placing a hand on the small of her back and whispering something to her. Emma glances around the yard for someone else to talk to, but Gary is the only one she knows well. _Ugh_. Fine.

“How are things with you, Gary?” she asks.

“I am settling two divorce cases next week,” he says with a smile. Emma vaguely remembers him rambling about colleges and grades, and she wonders if he cares about anything other than work. “The practice is going well. Oh, you don’t even know about this. Okay, so I first got hired at a firm in New York.” He continues talking about his work and how he got sick of the competitiveness of the big city and wanted to move back home and help the little guy. The everyday man. Emma finishes her beer in the time it takes him, and she grabs another one from the cooler.

“We both ended up back here, huh?” she says, remembering how sometimes they would talk about leaving.

“Who would have thought?” he says with a small laugh. “Hatchetfield has it merit though. Mostly because of the people.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Emma agrees, glancing back at Paul and Tim.

“How did you two meet?” Gary asks. Emma fights a smile.

“At a bar,” she answers, “well, he was a regular at the coffee shop I worked at. He totally had a crush on me, like a nerd. But we started talking at a bar, and had what I intended to be a one-night stand, but he was a damn good lay, so I figured why not do it again? That was three years ago.” Gary laughs and Emma almost forgives him. A little. He’s not _entirely_ terrible. Gary spots someone else he knows and excuses himself. She watches him leave and sighs.

Emma wanders around the garden, putting on her sunglasses. Some rando friend of Becky’s walks over and congratulates her on getting married and looks visibly disappointed when she doesn’t have a cute proposal story or a huge diamond to show off. Paul had asked if she wanted an engagement ring, but since they were already married, it seemed weird. Then the woman starts talking about kids and pregnancies and how she’s sure Tim will just love getting cousins.

“I got my tubes tied in 2009,” Emma says in a dead voice and walks away from the woman as her jaw drops. It was a lie, but other people need to butt the fuck out of her life. She hopes this shit isn’t going to continue the whole party. She has hardly made the walk to the snacks when another person stops her and starts talking about weddings and again when little feet are going to be running around their house. “We are thinking of adopting,” Emma says through clenched teeth, “either a pregnant teenager or another cat, we haven’t decided.”

She walks off, grabbing a handful of chips and shoving them in her mouth.

* * *

Tim is getting pretty good at Settlers, and Paul feels quite proud of him. He estimates they are a little more than halfway through. If he is being honest, he is thankful Tim asked him to play, so he didn’t have to walk around in the bright sunlight and talk to people he doesn’t know.

“Do you have any wood?” Tim asks. Paul glances at his cards, knowing he has to use what he has.

“No, sorry,” he lies, just as someone walks up behind him. Fingers start running through the hair on the back of his head, and he glances up at Emma, who’s wearing the heart-shaped sunglasses.

“Don’t listen to him, Timmo,” she says, “he is lying.”

Tim cackles and Paul makes a scandalized noise. “You cheater! I thought that my wife would root for me in Settlers!”

“ _Oh_ , but I’ll always root _against_ you in Settlers. It was in my vows, didn’t you notice?” Emma replies, smirking.

“I must have missed that part,” Paul says, placing his cards down and moving his arm, so he can wrap it around Emma and hold onto her hip. He gives her a little squeeze.

“Want another beer?” she asks.

“Yes, thank you,” he replies. She leans down and gives him a kiss, before walking off. “Kick his ass, Tim.”

“I’m trying!” Tim yells back, before looking at Paul through narrowed eyes. “You guys are married?”

“ _Oh_ , yeah.” Paul blushes, wondering if he fucked up by letting Tim know like this. Emma did play along though. “Last week actually.”

“Congrats,” Tim says with a smile, “why didn’t you throw a party?”

“ _Oh_ , _uh_ , good question,” Paul answers. _Why didn’t they?_

“Are you my uncle now?” Tim asks curiously.

“That’s up to you,” Paul says with a smile, “if you want me to be.”

Tim thinks it over, glancing back and forth between Paul and the direction Emma walked in. “Yeah, you’re my uncle.”

Paul feels surprisingly moved by the words, feeling a few tears prickle in his eyes. “I’m honored.”

“Wanna trade some of the wood you lied about?” Tim asks, clearly not giving the moment as much sentimental value as Paul.

“I need it myself,” Paul says.

“Please, Uncle Paul,” Tim pleads, making puppy eyes not much unlike the ones Emma make. The pout is similar too. _Fuck_ , being called Uncle Paul is melting him.

“Okay, this one time,” Paul groans, “but using my new uncle status and puppy eyes will only work once, okay?”

“We’ll see,” Tim grins. _Damn_ , this kid is a lot like Emma.

She returns shortly after, handing him another beer and Tim a soda. She looks like something is on her mind, and he makes a mental note to ask her about it when the game is over, and he can pull her aside. “So, Timmo, Matthews, can I lure you guys into a game of Kubb after this?” she asks. Paul nods, and Emma claps his shoulder. Tim also agrees.

Emma leaves them again and they continue the game. Paul wonders if maybe he should suggest finishing it another time, when three other guests appear. Two girls and a guy. The youngest girl has her hair in two braids and a backwards cap. The guy has a flannel around his hips and a single leather glove on, and the eldest of the girls has cut-off denim shorts and a heavy-looking pair of boots on. She’s holding a Tupperware box of something. Tom and Becky rush towards them. “Hi, Mr. Houston,” the oldest girl says, “sorry we’re late. We, _uh_ , brought some potato salad. It’s probably not very good.”

“Lex, great to see you,” Tom says.

“I am sure it’s delicious,” Becky says, taking the box from the girl, Lex.

“Who are they?” Paul asks Tim, gesturing to them discreetly. Tim looks over his shoulder and promptly blushes and looks down.

“It’s my dad’s old student, Lex, her boyfriend Ethan and her sister Hannah,” Tim blushes even deeper when he says the last name and Paul fights a smile. He glances back at the youngest girl. She’s probably around 15 or 16, and she looks sweet. Paul remembers being 12 and thinking the older girls were intimidatingly pretty and awesome. Tim is clearly going through something similar.

“It’s nice of your dad to invite them,” Paul says and Tim nods, before glancing back at Hannah again.

“They have dinner here sometimes,” Tim mumbles, “their mom isn’t well. Becky is always telling Dad to invite them over more or bring them leftovers.” _Ahh_ , that makes sense. Becky is so kind, but Paul has the feeling she brings out all the buried kindness in Tom as well.

“That’s so nice of them,” Paul says.

“Do you mind finishing the game later?” Tim asks. Paul agrees and, after taking a picture of the board and putting their cards in piles they can find again, they pack up the game. Then Tim runs indoors. He needs more of his Aunt’s game, it seems. Paul smiles to himself and heads out to find Emma.

She’s lying on a deck chair, enjoying the sun. Her arms are stretched out over her head, revealing bare skin between the shirt and her shorts. Paul sits down next to her, placing a hand on her thigh. She sits up. “Gary blabbered to everyone about us getting married. If one more person congratulates me or asks me about kids, I’m gonna light fireworks up their ass.”

Paul laughs. “I’m sorry,” he says, caressing her leg. “No one has bothered me yet.”

“ _Huh_ ,” Emma said, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair, “Maybe they only think I’m lucky for marrying you, and not the opposite.”

“I _highly_ doubt that,” Paul says with a smile, and leans in and kisses her.

“You’re a fucking softie,” Emma whispers against his lips, in between kisses.

“Guilty,” he replies, running his index finger down her cheek and under her chin.

“Okay, stop trying to make out with me in front of my family,” she says and pushes him away, “I wanna beat your ass at Kubb.”

“ _Oh_ , because you didn’t make out with me in front of Bill and Ted,” Paul protests and Emma cackles at the memory. She crawls to her feet and heads over to the cooler, this time picking a soda. Paul grabs one too and then they walk over to the game of Kubb. Becky and Tom are there as well, and Becky smiles widely when she sees them.

“Wanna play with us?” she asks.

“Definitely,” Paul says. Emma asks Tom if he wants to be on her team.

“Guess that leaves us together,” Becky says, “are you any good?”

“Aiming and throwing isn’t what I’m best at,” Paul admits.

“I’m sure we will do fine,” Becky says with a hand on his arm.

They set up and start playing. Becky is good, much better than Paul. He would say she has a better aim than both Tom and Emma too, but since they are both better than him, it evens out pretty well. Emma yells trash talk at them whenever he misses, so Paul flips her off, and she responds by blowing him a kiss.

“You guys are just so good together,” Becky says.

“Thank you,” Paul says, taken aback by her earnest tone.

“I’m really happy that you got married,” she continues, before doing a perfect throw and knocking over another piece.

“ _Woo_!” Paul hoots, and gives her a high five. “And thank you, I am really happy too.”

“Are you going to throw a party?” she asks, “I know both Tom and Tim would love to celebrate you. And myself, of course.”

“Even Tom?” Paul asks before he can stop himself.

Becky laughs, “Yes. I know he is a stoic man, but he cares about Emma. And you.”

“ _Huh_ ,” Paul says. Emma almost knocks one of theirs over, and he watches her stomp her foot in frustration. He loves this little firecracker so much. And she loves him back. She has been so worried about reconnecting with her family and there she is, playing a game with Tom, a part of the family and with a brother in law who cares about her. “I would love to have a real wedding. I never thought I would meet a girl like her. Let alone that she’d marry me.”

“You’re adorable,” Becky says. She looks over at Tom fondly. “Life is funny. You never know what lies ahead, waiting for you.”

“Tom’s lucky to have you,” Paul says, “seriously, he seems so much happier and calm since the first time I met him.”

“Maybe he was just putting on a protective act to the new boyfriend?” Becky jokingly suggests.

“Hey asswipes, it’s your turn, quit yapping!” Emma yells.

“I doubt Emma needs a protective act,” Paul laughs, before looking back at her. “Why? Are you impatient to lose?” he yells. It would have been a lot better if he hadn’t promptly missed his throw completely. Emma practically crumbles down laughing. Paul blushes as he looks back at Becky. “The things I do to make my wife happy.”

* * *

Paul misses his shot and Emma doubles over laughing. He tries to be smooth and funny and fails, and she simply loves him. Tom is laughing next to her and they share a moment. She stretches up again and watches the rest of their turn. Tom does a great throw, knocking over another of their pieces and Emma high-fives him.

“Nice one!” she says. Tom does a little approving grin. It’s taken her some time to learn to read him, but she’s gotten better at it. It helps a little that his stoic façade crumbles to the ground whenever Becky Barnes is around. Emma watches Becky tease Tom when he misses this time, and how they laugh at each other. She feels a tug at her heart. Being around Becky Barnes and Tom always feels like she’s betraying Jane. Probably because she still feels like Tom is betraying Jane.

Paul once asked her if she thought Tom wasn’t allowed to move on and find happiness. Which was an annoying way of putting it, because how the fuck was she supposed to say _no_ to that?! But it wasn’t that Tom moved on. It was that he found _her._ In High School, there was a certain hierarchy, and everyone loved Becky so much, which made Emma dislike her more. She remembers Tom and Becky, being the golden couple, and how everyone fawned over their love. How people in her school year were sad when they broke up after high school, like it was Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston or something.

Had Tom ever gotten over Becky? Had he loved her all this time? Had he settled for Jane when he came back? She can’t help but worry about these things. And now Tom and Becky are throwing parties together and Becky is being all chummy. Like now she’s a part of Emma’s family too. Paul likes her, even though he tries to hide it for her benefit. Bless him.

She tries to knock the thoughts out of her head. No need for this now. She and Tom make a pretty good team, neither of them talking much, compared to Paul and Becky, who seem like they can’t stop talking. Emma and Tom knock their cans together in a silent toast before their turn. Emma knocks the last piece over, hooting and doing a little celebratory dance. Tom briefly claps her shoulders and says _nice one._

Then they knock over the King, and Emma begins really dancing. She shuffles over to Paul, holding out her arms and shimming. “We won, we won, we woooon,” she sings, “sucks to be youuu.”

Paul shakes his head, and then he places a hand on each of her shoulder and kisses her. “Congratulations, you idiot.”

“We will have a rematch soon,” Becky promises, just as Tom walks over and wraps an arm around her waist. She looks up at him with eyes full of love. “Wanna challenge Ethan and Lex, honey?”

 _Honey_ , gross.

“I would, but I should really start making dinner,” he says, and they walk off. Emma wraps an arm around Paul.

“Another beer?” he suggests. She nods and they walk over to the drinks. Emma lets go of him and ducks down to the cooler. She has to search a little for the right beers.

“Paul? Emma’s husband?” someone says.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“Congratulations on the wedding. Must have been a great day,” the voice continues.

“Yeah it was.” Paul replies. Emma seizes the opportunity to crawl under the table, bringing just her own beer with her. She keeps her head down as she hides behind a rose bush, catching a little of the conversation.

“Where is the lucky lady?”

“Oh, she’s right – uh.”

She knows it’s a shitty move, but she can’t handle anymore. These people don’t know her, why do they care about her marriage? She hides behind the bush for a while, browsing through her phone and everyone’s social media posts about today.

Finally, she lifts her head and looks at the guests. Paul is talking to Tim and Emma jogs over to them. Tim grins and she joins their discussion of food, mostly about how much cheese they want in their burgers and what the best condiment for fries is. It’s the first really nice moment at this party, aside from talking shit to Paul in the game.

At some point Tim runs over to help his dad and Becky set things up. Emma watches him, as he wraps an arm around Becky, and they walk into the kitchen. She looks up at Paul and asks a question that has been rummaging shamefully around inside of her for a while. “Do you think Tim likes Becky more than he likes me?”

Paul looks at her and the surprise in his eyes melts to softness. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. “No,” he says and kisses the top of her head, “of course not. You’re his cool aunt Emma. She’s his dad’s girlfriend. It’s just different.”

“Hmm,” Emma says and wraps her arm around him. He smells nice, like comfort and the laundry detergent he uses, combined with a hint of sweat and sunscreen.

“He thinks the world of you,” Paul says, “he is just a hugger, so obviously he also hugs Becky.”

“Okay, I believe you,” Emma says, smiling again.

“You should, I’m his Uncle Paul,” he tells her with a proud smile.

“No shit?”

“Yes shit,” Paul grins, “he officially told me I’m his uncle now.”

“Aunt Emma and Uncle Paul, huh?” she sends him an amused smile, “look at us, being lame sentimental assholes together.”

“It’s honestly all I’ve ever wanted,” Paul says softly. It’s so sweet and open. He’s good at that. Being earnest and giving her these little declarations of love, all founded in everyday life. He shows his love in a lot of ways, like folding her laundry when she leaves it on a chair, or by always having seconds when she cooks, but saying it out loud like this is her favorite.

“Did I ever tell you I bought these sunglasses when I bought you that mug three years ago?” she asks.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says, intrigue lighting up in his eyes.

“Yeah, I had Tim for the day and when Tom picked him up at the mall, I went back inside to buy you the mug, because I couldn’t stop thinking about it and you. I saw these sunglasses and bought them as well. I had my first really good day with Tim and I was in such a good mood,” she recollects the day and how she just had to get that mug for him. “I should have realized my feelings for you the moment I bought it.”

Something flickers in Paul’s beautiful eyes, “I realized I loved you when you got me the mug.”

“I compliment the size your dick and you fall in love?” Emma smirks. Paul chuckles and shakes his head.

“You’re hopeless,” he says and kisses her. She expects a peck on the lips, but he fully kisses her, making her lose her breath. “How you didn’t realize I was so in love with you is impressive.”

“Shut up and kiss me again, asshole,” Emma says.

The food is ready, and people line up to make burgers and hotdogs. Emma ends up across the table from one of the young girls who arrived earlier. She has dark makeup and long brown hair. Emma makes the most greasy burger she can, and the girl gives her an appreciative look. “Years of practice,” Emma grins.

“Nice,” the girl returns the grin, “stay away from the potato salad. It’s store-bought and I can guarantee it’s fucking gross.”

“Noted,” Emma nods. She sits next to Paul, across from Gary and someone she vaguely remembers from high school. Paul gets them both hotdogs after, and then Emma has to stop herself from eating.

They have a fun time, and then the pies are brought out and Becky makes a big deal out of thanking Emma for making them, so everyone knows. It means several people walk over to compliment her, but that is a lot better than before. The pies _did_ turn out great because she is a damn baking genius. She’s starting to actually enjoy herself. Paul goes to the car to get his jacket and her sweatshirt, while she grabs them another pair of beers. However she ends up talking to one of the guests for twenty minutes.

It's a nice night, and Emma and Paul end up on a deck chair together, drinking more beers, and talking. Paul points over to Tim, who is standing near Hannah and Lex, looking like he is building up courage to start conversation.

“He was blushing earlier, when he told me who she is,” Paul whispers to her, his breath tickling her neck.

“He has a crush? Oh my God!” Emma turns to look at Paul, who’s grinning, “you hopeless gossip.”

“You know it,” Paul says and winks. _Nerd_.

“He has no game,” Emma says as she returns her gaze to Tim. “He’s like you back in the day, trying to talk to me at Beanies.”

“He’s 12,” Paul defends.

“What does that say about you?” Emma grins. Paul pokes her side and she yelps.

“I wasn’t that awkward,” he argues and Emma snort-laughs.

“Remember after the first time we had sex, and you couldn’t speak, and Ted tried to ask me out _for_ you?”

“That’s-“ he pauses for a moment “- a good point. But I have never been smooth when it comes to sex.”

“I know.” Emma looks at him and claps his cheek gently. “It’s a little bit endearing, but don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I’ll keep it a secret,” he grins, and kisses her.

“Can’t let people know I’ve gone soft,” she whispers against his lips, and he responds by smiling as he kisses her. She turns around and leans against him, and he wraps his arms around her. They watch the party, finishing their beers. Emma isn’t drunk, but she has been drinking beers over several hours now, so she isn’t sober either. She just has a comfortable, tipsy filter over everything. It’s nice. Paul seems to be the same.

Becky hands out blankets as the light dims and the sun sets. Tim comes over with a blanket and one of the last slices of pie. He brought an extra fork and Emma shares the pie with him, feeding Paul a few bites as well. When it’s time for fireworks, Tim scoots closer to her and wraps the blanket over them both. Emma places her arm around his shoulders, and the three of them watch the fireworks in silence. Tim rests his head against her shoulder, and Emma smiles to herself. She reaches down her hand and finds Paul’s, intertwining their fingers. She can feel him turn his head and look at her, but she doesn’t look away from the fireworks.

After some time, she does look. Red and yellow and blue light from the fireworks dance across his face, as he looks up at the sky. His hand is large and warm in hers. She has known she wants to be with him for the rest of her life for a long time know, but it’s moment like this that really cement it for her. Her heart feels big and whole and warm. She watches the slope of his nose and the always round and soft jaw of his and smiles to herself. She really likes his face.

When she looks back at the party, she notices Tom is looking at them. He walks over, picking up a chair on the way. He sits down next to them and hands them each a new beer. “Congratulations on getting married. I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Emma and Paul reply in unison. It makes all of them chuckle. Emma opens her beer and drinks from it, and then she clears her throat. “And thank you for inviting us. It’s a lovely party.”

“Thank you,” Tom says and looks down. “Jane and I used to throw these parties and –“ he pauses and Emma feels a lump in her throat.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to any of them,” she says, feeling warm tears sting in her eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Tom says, “I couldn’t get myself to throw one again. When she died I thought I never would. Becky was the one who insisted on it. I am glad we did it. I am glad you guys came.”

Emma swallows and Paul squeezes her hand. “Thank you, Tom.”

“J would have been happy for you two,” he continues, finally looking up.

“Are you kidding? She would have given me so much shit,” Emma says with a laugh, forgetting her nephew is right next to her.

“She would,” Tom agrees with a nod and a fond smile, “I learned a long time ago that the Perkins sisters show their love through relentless teasing.”

“Tell me about it,” Paul adds, “I get called a nerd on a daily basis.”

“Yeah? Whenever I pushed feelings away or didn’t want to cry, Jane would drop her voice as low as she could and say shit like _hur dur I am a real man I don’t have feelings_.” Tom recalls fondly. Emma laughs. Tim stirs next to her.

“Mom was the best,” he says, his voice a mix of sad and proud.

“Yeah she was,” Tom agrees, clapping Tim’s knee. “She was remarkable. Never met anyone like her.”

The words warm Emma. She glances at Becky, who’s talking to a friend. She’s still conflicted about Tom’s old flame but hearing him talk so fondly of Jane helps. The thought of someone settling for her sister is unbearable. Jane deserved to have one person, who would choose her one hundred percent. Just _one_ person who was really there.

“It’s getting late,” Paul says, looking at his iPhone. He’ll search the whole house for it, just to see what time it is, instead of owning a clock or looking at the oven or TV. Emma glances at him. Perhaps she’s having trouble with understanding how Tom can love both Jane and Becky, because she can’t imagine loving anyone as much as she loves Paul.

“Yeah, someone’s bedtime is nearing,” Tom says. Tim protests weakly, but he really is laying half-asleep against Emma. “Come on, kiddo. You should brush your teeth at least. That way you can jump straight to bed when the guests leave.”

“Fine,” Tim says with a groan and gets up, leaving the blanket with Emma. Paul squeezes her hand again and moves his thumb back and forth in a reassuring motion. Neither of them speaks. Then there is the sound of footsteps behind them and Gary Goldstein moves past them, talking in a low voice into his phone.

“- on my way now – at the office? – yes I have been a good boy-“ 

Emma looks at Paul with surprise, meeting his horrified eyes. _What the fuck_? “I am not surprised Gary is a kinky bastard,” she whispers. “I wonder who he’s sleeping with.”

“I am not sure I wanna know,” Paul says with a shudder.

The guests begin leaving, and Paul orders them a taxi. Emma hugs Tim goodbye tightly. While he moves over and hugs Paul, she turns towards Tom and Becky and nods at them. “Thank you for a lovely party.”

“Thank you for the pies,” Becky says. Her hands shake momentarily, like she wants to move into a hug. Emma picks up her pie forms.

“Thank you,” Paul says, shaking Tom’s hand. “Thank you, Becky. You really should have won the game.” He says and then he gives her a quick hug.

“It was great seeing you. We’ll get them next time, team-mate,” Becky says with a smile.

“Take care!” Emma says and then they move out to the street and find their ride. She’s tired from a day out in the sun and that last beer did kick up her buzz a little. It feels like she went through pretty much every emotion today, but luckily the last few hours were mostly full of how much she likes Paul.

He insists on washing the pie forms, and Emma sits on the kitchen table and watches him. His cheeks and nose are a little red from the sun, and she can tell from the shine in his eyes that he is buzzed as well. He sprays a little water on her when he has placed the forms to dry. She squeals and laughs, and Paul steps closer to her, placing his hands on the sides of her thighs, leaning his face close to hers. “I had a good day. I hope you did too.”

“I did,” she says honestly, “I am really glad you were there with me.” Instead of responding he just kisses her deeply. The type of kiss she can feel from her lips all the way down to her toes. Her hands come up to rest on his shoulders and he makes a satisfied little noise as he moves closer in between her legs. “So,” she says, “are you gonna take me upstairs and make sweet love to me?”

“Did you just call it ‘make love’?”

“I said make _sweet_ love, which clearly makes it ironic.”

“Mhmm, _suure_.”

“Why did I marry you?”

“I believe it was for my health insurance,” Paul says with a grin.

“ _Oh_ right,” she smiles back, while she moves her hands down his chest and begins unbuttoning his shirt. “Let me rephrase my question then. Are you gonna take me upstairs and fuck me so hard I forget my name?” His eyes grow big and wide and she cackles. He swallows visibly.

“I think I’m more in a make love kinda mood,” he says.

“Oh God, you’re so lame,” she says, stopping halfway through his buttons. She nudges him away gently and jumps down on the floor. She heads towards the door, turning around to look at him. “I suggest you make your nerd ass follow me upstairs.”

She goes directly into the bathroom next to the bedroom and begins taking her hair down. She can hear Paul sit down on the bed. She removes her shirt, dropping it on the floor. While the bra isn’t see-through or lacy, it does a good job at giving her more cleavage. She walks back into the bedroom and enjoys the way Paul’s gaze travels up and down her body and the way he absentmindedly licks his lips. She stops in front of him and now she’s the one standing between his legs. She lifts a hand and runs it through his hair, pushing it out of his face. It’s time for a haircut soon, she notices. Paul’s hands settle on her hips, and his thumbs run back and forth across the skin above her shorts, sending shivers up her spine.

She smirks down at him. “I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly,” she says and kisses him hungrily. She licks along his bottom lip, so he opens his mouth. Paul makes a pleased noise and then he breaks the kiss and looks up at her with a playful look. His pupils are wide and dark.

“I actually specifically prepared for this jelly,” he says in a mock-serious tone, while he moves both hands into her back pockets, taking big handfuls of ass. Emma laughs loudly, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You are such a dork,” she says with a sigh, “I am so glad I met you.”

And then they are kissing again, pulled together like two magnets, unable to fight the attraction between them. Paul is pushing her against him, and Emma is tugging at his hair and scraping her nails against his skin between his shoulder blades. She hopes his shirt protects him from getting scratches. They momentarily stop kissing, so they can move onto the bed. Paul scoots backwards and Emma crawls after him, panting lightly. He rests against the pillows and she sits across his thighs, kissing him while she resumes her work on his buttons. His hands have returned to her ass, clearly taking her joke from early seriously. She begins trailing kisses down his neck and chest, pushing the shirt away. His skin tastes salty from today’s sweat. As she moves down, something definitely starts poking her and he squirms a little.

She chuckles against his stomach. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she says and unbuttons the shorts. She sits up and begins pulling them down his legs. He squirms again to help her. He sits up and takes off his open shirt. He moves over and opens Emma’s shorts and then they are removed too. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him hungrily. They lie down again, rolling around as they kiss. Paul’s hands are everywhere, and Emma’s getting dizzy with the feel of him as the last bits of clothes are discarded.

At first it seems like he gets his way. His hand is in hers, their fingers intertwined, and his eyes are full of warmth and love as he looks down at her. His other hand gently cups her face and he kisses her softly, before whispering, “ _I love you_.” She doesn’t really respond much, aside from a moan, as he is doing some stuff with his hips at the same time, but she likes that they have reached a point in their relationship where it isn’t about saying it back. And really, she’s more than okay with this _making love_ business, because he’s soft and gentle and it’s actually quite nice to take it slow and notice each other like this. But then, suddenly, Paul stops and looks down at her with the most mischievous and smug look.

“Wait, what was it you wanted me to do?” he asks, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips.

“I – _oh!_ – _Paul!_ ” he doesn’t let her finish the sentence. In fact, she stops forming clear thoughts, as he suddenly does exactly what she asked for earlier.

It really is incredible that he still surprises her like this. Three years into the relationship and the sex is as good as ever. He flops down on top of her after, sounding exhausted, and she places her hands on his back. “ _Ew_ , you’re completely wet with sweat,” she says, and her voice is a little raw from all the screaming she just did.

“I did just do a full work-out,” he says into her neck.

“You really fucking did,” she agrees, “that was fucking spectacular. I’m glad you don’t skip hip-thrust-day.”

Paul laughs and his whole body shakes. They lie for a while, until Emma needs to use the bathroom and open the window. They should probably change the sheets, but they are both too tired, instead curling up together on Paul’s side of the bed.

Emma is awoken by a soft hand on her cheek, and she blinks a few times before Paul’s face comes into focus. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, wearing his glasses. “Morning, sunshine,” he says and places a mug of coffee on her bedside table.

“Morning,” she mumbles, her voice thick with sleep. Why is he up this early?

“I’m gonna head over to Tom’s and get the car,” Paul says softly, pushing some of her hair out of her face. “You can just wake up slowly and drink the coffee I made you.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and he leans down and kisses her before leaving. It’s brave of him because she doesn’t have the best taste in her mouth. He must really love her. She slumps back into the pillows for a few more minutes, but the coffee next to her is too tempting. She sits up, wincing a little as her body complaints - she’s a little sore from last night it seems. She grabs the green Tinkerbell mug and takes a sip. It’s hot, and there is a generous amount of milk in it. She sighs in content. In an ironic turn of events, Paul somehow always knows how she wants her coffee on a given day. Like today she wants milk but no sugar. She takes another sip, before inspecting the cut on her foot. It’s practically gone.

She’s not hungover, but she is definitely a little groggy as she gets dressed in the shorts she made from old sweatpants and a t-shirt. She carries the mug with her downstairs to the kitchen. There is food for Lettuce already, so she goes straight to watering the plants. Paul is going to be gone for at least fifteen minutes more, so she decides to make them breakfast.

She makes scrambled eggs in the largest pan, while she finishes the coffee. There is a little orange juice left, so she pours them both half a glass and sets the little kitchen table. She hears Paul enter the house just as she places the eggs on the table.

He stops in the door and smiles wide and dopey when he sees her. Or the food. It could be both. “It smells great,” he says, walking in. _Definitely the food._ He pours himself a mug of coffee and then walks over to her, holding out the pot. Emma lifts her mug and gets a refill.

“Eat up before the eggs get cold,” she instructs. They eat and chat. Lettuce comes in, circling around their ankles a little before heading over to her food.

“So, I was talking to Becky,” Paul says, “and she had some ideas for a wedding party.”

“A wedding party?” Emma looks up in confusion.

“Yeah, for us,” he smiles, “I know we are already married, but we could still have a real party with the people we love.” Why is he suddenly talking about a party? That was never something they had discussed before.

“Becky suggested that?”

“I mean, she did, but Tim was actually the first one to ask why we didn’t throw a party,” Paul elaborates, “and I thought about it and it could be fun.”

“Yeah,” Emma frowns, “I mean, sure, paying thousands of dollars for a party so we have proof that we love each other _could_ be fun.” Sometimes she forgets how traditional Paul is. Even though there is nothing traditional about them, in particular their new marriage.

“What do you mean?” Paul looks confused. “What’s wrong with a real wedding? Me in a tux, you in a white dress?”

“Paul,” she says, “we don’t have to make our love into some big production, just because people expect it from us. I mean, our culture turns human emotions into some consumer trade show.”

“I suppose…” his voice trails off. She leans forward and touches his hand.

“Being married to you is awesome. Our love is better than, like, wafflemakers and shit. A big performative _look how in love we are_ party is just not who we are, right?” He looks up at her and nods.

“Okay,” he mumbles, stabbing some egg with his fork. “Okay.” Emma narrows her eyes, but then he looks up and smiles. “You’re right. Maybe in ten years we can renew our vows and have a small barbecue.”

“That sounds _perfect_ ,” she grins and holds out her hand for a high-five. “you get it.” Paul high-fives her and smiles, and Emma’s grin widens. She shows off the wedding ring and pulls a silly face and he lifts his own and smiles. “It’s you and me, buddy. For good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love Gary so much. Probably bc he is played by Jon tbh. 
> 
> I hope y'all liked this. The miscommunication is starting, but I promise it's smol!  
> Also thanks for all the love the first chapter got. It made me very happy!! <3 
> 
> If you wanna leave a lil comment, I will love you forever. Promise! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaack. Woo. Another long ass chapter for y'all. Lots happens.  
> I just wanna give a big thanks for all the comments and kudos and love you guys are giving. It means so much!!

Paul sits across from Bill, Melissa and Ted at their usual bar on East Cameron, sipping a whiskey sour. It’s Friday and they are all tired from the week. Especially Paul, who has a sharp deadline coming up. He is usually in charge of getting their semi-annual numbers ready for the accounting firm they work with. There has been some stuff not adding up and he has had to put in a lot of extra time already. The past three days he has gotten up much earlier than usual and home much later. It means he has hardly seen Emma this week. She still has time off from Hidgens’ project, and is spending the day hanging out with Tim.

“Wanna play pool?” Melissa asks. Ted agrees immediately and the four of them shuffle towards the pool table. Melissa and Ted have the first match, while Paul and Bill lean back against the wall and watch them.

Paul’s been in a bit of a weird state ever since last weekend when Emma talked him out of a wedding party. He hadn’t thought about it at first, because just getting to marry her was pretty wild, but ever since Tim and Becky mentioned it, his head has been constantly coming up with images of getting to say _I do_ in front of his friends. Images of Emma in a wedding dress, walking towards him down the aisle. He knows he is a sappy romantic, but fuck it, he likes the idea of a wedding. He hasn’t been planning one since he was a kid, it isn’t a lifelong goal of his, but now that he knows it’s completely off the table, it makes him sad to miss out on it.

He can imagine it easily. They would have a small ceremony and party, perhaps in their backyard. Emma would call him a nerd throughout her vows and get champagne tipsy. Bill would cry. He feels a tug in his heart.

He isn’t surprised that she doesn’t want one. She has never been into things like that. She mostly makes fun of him and then occasionally says earnest things that just knocks him off his feet. But when she talked about making their wedding into a big production and how their actual love was better than that, he had agreed. An actual wedding wasn’t his dream, so he figured he would do what made her happy.

He sips his drink, not paying attention to the game in front of him. Giving up on a wedding for Emma is the right thing to do, but it is taking him some time to fully let it go. To be okay with never having one. Paul wants to shake his head at himself. Here he is, married to the most wonderful, funny, beautiful, snarky and ridiculous woman he has ever met, and he is being sad because they didn’t have a wedding like everyone else.

“Paul,” Ted snaps his fingers in front of him, “are you paying attention? Do you want to play?”

“ _Ah_ , no thanks,” Paul says. Ted shrugs.

“Mel, it’s you and me again,” Ted says and empties his glass. “I hope you are ready to lose again.”

“I hope so too,” Melissa says and bats her eyelashes innocently, “do you want to play for money?”

“Sure – wait.” Ted looks suspiciously at her. She smiles like the Cheshire cat. “Are you trying to hustle me? You sneaky bastard.”

Bill scoots closer to Paul, clinking his Shirley Temple against Paul’s almost empty glass. Paul nods at him and they drink as they watch Ted and Melissa playfully bicker and trash talk each other. Emma would fit perfectly here right now, mixing with those two. It’s too bad she had other plans already.

“How did Jeremy and Christine react to the wedding?” Bill asks. Paul’s eyes grow wide at the mention of his parents. _Shit_. He forgot to tell his family!

“I… forgot about telling them,” he admits and then they both laugh. “I am sure Mom would be delighted at having all three kids married now, but very upset we got married on our own at the courthouse. Dad wouldn’t care much.” It’s the hard truth. His dad’s reaction to meeting Emma was pretty much just _huh_. His mother seemed openly interested in getting to know Emma, but Paul could tell she just wanted information she could use to brag to her friends over her new daughter-in-law. When Emma turned out to be, well, Emma, his mother’s smile had faltered slightly.

“I know your mom is a bitch and all, but she’s right on this,” Melissa chips in, stopping in front of them. “You guys robbed us of a fun party and the chance to dress up.”

“ _And_ we owe you a bachelor party,” Ted adds.

“No,” Paul says sternly to Ted, before looking at Melissa, “Emma doesn’t want a wedding party. We did it our own way.”

“I’m just saying…” Melissa shrugs and takes her turn. Paul ignores her because he isn’t good at lying and he wants to agree with her.

He ends up getting another drink and attempting to play a game of pool, to Ted’s obvious amusement. Bill watches them fondly and Melissa returns from picking songs on the jukebox. Then suddenly Charlotte shows up, grinning wide from ear to ear. She looks tired around the eyes and her curls are a little frazzled. She wasn’t at work today and none of them know why.

“Charlotte,” they greet her in unison.

“I wanted to celebrate with you all,” she grins, “I was in court all day and it’s done. The divorce is finalized.”

They all gape at her in shock for a moment and then they all run forward and hug her. Paul knew she had stopped trying to fix things with Sam a while ago, but he didn’t know they were finalizing it today. “I am so happy for you!” Melissa cheers.

“I’m buying the next round,” Charlotte promises, still smiling wide. Ted is watching her carefully, and Paul elbows Bill. They exchange looks and move away to give them space. Melissa rushes over to them, grimacing.

“Guys, what drinks do you want?” Ted yells after them. They yell back their orders and watch Ted and Charlotte head up to the bar.

“Do you think they will be together properly now?” Bill asks.

“I hope so,” Paul answers, just as Melissa snorts.

“I don’t know what will happen long term, but I bet they are going to bone tonight,” she says dryly.

“You’ve been spending too much time around Emma,” Paul tells her.

“ _Au contraire_ , I haven’t seen her in ages,” Melissa counters, crossing her arms. The seriousness of her stature is somewhat ruined when she tries to capture her straw in her mouth without looking at it.

“That’s a shame,” Paul says, “I would have invited her, but she already had plans today.”

“When Alice and Deb come back from their roadtrip vacation, you guys are coming over for dinner,” Bill says. Paul claps his arm.

“We’ll come over for dinner without the girls, Bill. You know that,“ he says.

“I know, I know,” Bill nods, “it’s just more fun when Alice is back.”

“You’re my friend,” Paul says sincerely, “We’ll come over next week if you want?”

“That would be nice,” Bill nods, “Emma can teach me that chicken recipe she made us a few months ago.”

“Perfect,” Paul nods.

“ _Oh_ Melissa, would you like to join us?” Melissa says sarcastically. Paul laughs.

“Would you?” Bill asks.

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude on your bromance,” she grins. Paul rolls his eyes.

Time passes as they have drinks or beers and the others dance to the music from the jukebox. Paul switches to soda and keeps to himself, constantly spacing out and thinking about a real wedding. He should probably call his mom tomorrow and tell her about getting married.

Charlotte seems so much lighter and Paul is _so_ happy for her. He knows that one of the last straws where when Emma discovered Charlotte’s Sam was the gross cop guy Zoey was seeing. To be fair to Zoey, she didn’t know he was married. Even though Charlotte hadn’t been true either, Sam so openly dating someone much younger than him was too much. It was a big blow for Zoey, who had been seeing Sam for over a year and a half. Emma doesn’t mention her much, but Paul is pretty sure she misses her. Zoey joined a new theater group last summer and left Hatchetfield to move around with them.

“What’s up with you?” Melissa asks, sitting down on the stool next to Paul. The others are still dancing, even Bill who mostly steps back and forth.

“ _Whaaat_?” Paul squeaks, before clearing his throat, “Nothing is up.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Melissa insists, leaning forward. Her eyes look serious and caring behind her glasses.

“I swear I am okay,” Paul replies, “I am more than okay. I am _happy_.”

“I am not saying that you aren’t truly happy _overall_ ,” she says, making a rainbow with her hands. “You and Emma are disgustingly happy around each other. But right now, tonight, something is bothering you.”

“You’re not getting paid enough at work,” Paul tells her with a fond smile, “you’re definitely the smartest one here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Melissa brushes him off, “spill the beans.”

“Emma doesn’t want a wedding party, and I guess I am a little sad about it,” he admits.

“Have you told her?” Melissa asks.

“No, she kinda talked me out of it,” he mumbles. Melissa sends him a judging look and opens her mouth to speak, so Paul continues talking, “But I mean, I don’t want a wedding party if Emma is going to hate it.”

“I get that,” she nods, “but it sounds like you didn’t have an open conversation about it.”

“It’s always been important to me to take things in Emma’s tempo.” Paul looks at his drink and takes another sip.

“It’s okay to be sad though,” Melissa says, touching his arm again.

“Thanks,” Paul says with a nod.

They rejoin the others, asking Charlotte questions about where she is going to live now and who got the cats. She is renting an apartment downtown and Sam got none of the cats, so all is good. After a while, Bill yawns and asks if anyone wants a lift home. Paul takes the front seat and Melissa slides into the back, giggling. She had not switched to soda when Paul did. They drop her off first and she leans forward between their seats and gives them each a kiss on the cheek before crawling out of the car. Paul laughs and waves at her. Bill shakes his head as he continues driving.

Paul repeats their plan for dinner before hopping out of the car and heading up to the house. It’s a little late and the lights are off, so Emma is probably in bed. He tiptoes inside, leaving his shoes and jacket downstairs and heading up the stairs carefully. He heads towards the bedroom and nearly trips over Lettuce and he hisses in surprise. Then he bends down and scratches her chin.

The lights are off inside the bedroom as well, so Paul heads straight to the bathroom and brushes his teeth and takes out the contact lenses. He flosses and uses mouthwash and then he walks quietly back into the bedroom. He can hear Emma’s deep and slow breathing, telling him she’s out cold. He undresses and crawls into his side of the bed wearing a t-shirt and boxers. He leans over to Emma and kisses her shoulder, trying not to disturb her, before rolling back and closing his eyes.

Lying next to her, even when they aren’t touching, always fills him with such calmness. He likes being out with his friends but coming home to Emma is still the best. Just knowing she’s there makes his muscles and mind relax. He feels Lettuce jump onto the bed and curl up between them and Paul smiles into the dark room. They are their own little family. How did he get so lucky?

At some point in the night Emma must have moved closer and wrapped her arm around him, because he wakes up to her spooning him. Her cheek is resting against his shoulder and her breath is warm as it hits him. Paul moves his hand down and touches Emma’s hand and wrist. She stirs behind him, moving a little away, so he can turn around. Even without his glasses he can see that she looks beautiful. Her hair is a little wild and curly, so she probably showered last night. She’s wearing his Simpsons t-shirt.

“Morning, Mr. Party Dude,” Emma grins. Paul lifts himself up so he can look down at her and places a hand on her waist.

“Does that make you Mrs. Party Dude?” he asks, dipping down to place a kiss against the side of her neck.

“Of course,” she answers with a laugh, running a hand up and down his shoulder. Paul lies back down on his side, moving his thumb back and forth against her waist. “Did you guys have fun?”

“We did,” he replies, “Charlotte showed up and announced that she and Sam are officially divorced.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Emma says. Something flickers through her eyes. Paul assumes it is anger towards Sam. Emma will probably never forgive him for the way he treated Zoey. “One marriage ends, and another begins.” She sends him a mischievous grin.

“I still have trouble believing we got married. Like, for real,” Paul admits. He wonders if this is the time to mention how he is sad about the wedding party not happening. But Emma’s grin goes wider, and she scoots closer.

“Like real adults? Yeah me too,” she admits, “but it’s a nice surprise to remember during the day. Whenever I see my ring, I’m like _oh shit I’m married to Paul_ and then the day gets a little better.”

Okay, not right now. He doesn’t want to spoil this nice moment. “So, marriage really brings out the sweet in you, huh?” he asks.

“Apparently,” Emma says and rolls her eyes, “but don’t worry. I’ll be back to biting in no time.”

“Do you promise?” Paul asks with a grin, moving his hand underneath her t-shirt.

“Someone’s getting confident,” she replies, tangling her legs with his.

“Maybe a little, “ Paul says, as his hand crawls further up. He closes the distance between them and kisses her. She makes a pleased noise and her mouth opens, while her hand moves up to his hair. Paul rolls them over, so he’s on top of her, pressing her into the mattress. Emma gasps and grabs his ass under the covers, which have moved down around his hips.

“You’re frisky this morning,” she whispers before kissing him again.

“ _Mhmmm_ ,” Paul agrees, not wanting to break the kiss, moving his hand out from underneath her shirt and down her thigh, so he can lift her leg up around his hip. Emma makes a noise and her grasp tightens. Paul rolls his hips against her and she repeats the noise a little louder. Then her hands start pushing his t-shirt up, and Paul lets her take it off him, before resuming their feverish kisses.

Emma suddenly flips them over, so she’s on top and Paul uses that as an opportunity to remove her shirt as well. There she is, naked torso and wild hair, sitting across his thighs, causing a tent in his boxers. She crawls forward and kisses him deeply on the lips before trailing kisses down his neck, pausing to flick her tongue against his earlobe, sending shivers down his spine and more blood into the tent. She moves further down, her breast grazing across his penis and her hot breath dancing across his skin. Paul’s breathing is growing shaky and shallow in anticipation and he looks down at Emma, just as she sends a blurry grin up at him and her fingers grab the elastic of his boxers and she pushes them down. He exhales as Emma moves the covers up around her shoulders and then he closes his eyes.

Paul holds onto the sheet with both hands and tries to slow his breathing down and not move his hips too much. He wants to tell her to stop, to come back up and kiss him and let him take over, but it all comes out in broken phrases and words, mostly interrupted with moaning and repeating her name. She continues until his hips buckle and he cranes his neck backwards and cries out. He doesn’t register much other than the feeling of bliss in his whole body, and then Emma is back next to him, her hand resting against his cheek.

“If you want to do that every morning, I wouldn’t complain,” he says.

“Careful what you wish for,” Emma says, straddling him again. “I would make you late _every_ morning.”

“You would?” he asks in confusion, while his hands start absentmindedly drawing patterns on her thighs.

“Definitely,” she says, smiling coyly, “I would time it so you were almost ready to go and then I’d find you in the kitchen or bathroom or hallway and then go down on my knees.”

“You’re evil,” he says, even though the mental image is quite nice.

“Plus, I know you, and you would feel bad for leaving without returning the favor,” Emma says, leaning down, so her face is right above his.

“True,” he says, “I would be _very_ late for work.”

“Speaking off returning the favor,” Emma says and does an eyebrow waggle.

“Yeah?” Paul feigns ignorance. She pinches him and he laughs.

“Dickhead.” Her voice grows deeper. “Are you gonna do something or do I have to crawl up and sit on your face?”

He grins again, “I mean, if you want to, I’m not gonna obje-”

She cuts him off with a deep, intense kiss. “You’re definitely getting confident,” she says. Paul moves his hands up to her underwear.

“Want to take these off first or?”

“Oh, I’m gonna make you shut up,” she threatens, sitting up on her knees so she can move the panties down. Paul doesn’t have time to think of a witty answer, because then she makes real on her threat.

It’s almost 11 am when they make it downstairs, and Paul immediately starts making pancake batter, while Emma brews coffee and starts slicing strawberries. They bustle around each other effortlessly, so used to the others movement patterns. The breakfast table is set, and they eat their way through the large pile of pancakes Paul has made.

“I have to call my mom,” Paul says when he puts his fork down.

“Bummer. Why?” Emma asks.

“I may have forgotten to tell my family about us getting married,” he admits, smiling sheepishly. Emma just snort-laughs.

“That’s really funny. I can’t imagine she’ll be pleased,” she says, popping one last strawberry into her mouth.

“She likes you,” Paul tries.

“No, she doesn’t,” Emma says, still chewing, “but she doesn’t actively dislike me, so that’s a win.”

“She’s gonna call my sister and my brother and spread all the gossip.” Paul pinches his nose. He isn’t ready for all the potential drama.

“And a shock rippled through the entire Matthews clan, when the middle child married the strange Perkins girl,” Emma narrates dramatically. Paul laughs loudly. He finishes his coffee and picks up their plates, so he can rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. Emma packs away the last few pancakes and empties the coffee pot into their mugs. “Well, big dick Paul,” she says, handing him the mug, “you better call her then.”

He brushes a kiss against her lips, ignoring the nickname, and moves into the living room with his coffee and his phone. He dials _mom_ and sighs. It rings a few times, before she picks up. “Paul, what a surprise,” she says, as always making her voice light and sweet.

“Hey Mom,” Paul says.

“You’re calling at the perfect time, I just finished my tennis practice,” she starts, “I’m on my way to get an iced coffee.”

“That sounds great,” Paul says, not exactly enthusiastic. _Just say it_. “Mom, I – _uh –_ I am calling with some news.”

“News!” She sounds excited, and Paul can practically see her stop and stand up straighter. “What is it?”

“Emma and I got married,” he tells her, and she falls completely silent. After a moment, Paul clears his throat. “Mom?”

“Married?” she finally gets out, and her voice is sharper and squeakier than the tone she usually makes. “When was this?”

“A couple of weeks ago, actually,” he admits, pinching his nose, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, it was kind of spontaneous, and-“

“Weeks?” she repeats, before laughing nervously, “so, have you had a party yet? Because if you need anything in terms of planning it, just let us know. _Oh_! Our neighbors have the most fantastic vacation home with many guest rooms and a huge backyard – well it’s more of park really. I am sure we can borrow it; your dad has been helping them with their accounting.”

“No, no,” Paul says, “we’re not throwing a party.”

She’s silent for a moment, and then she clicks her tongue. “Well, as long as you are happy.”

“I am, Mom,” he answers. He waits for a moment but for once she doesn’t ask him about work or if he is still living in the old house. Instead she just says goodbye. Paul imagines she is going to call his dad and sister. He isn’t sure his younger brother Ben cares about this stuff.

He walks back into the kitchen, where Emma is finishing her coffee and scrolling through her phone. She looks up and smiles. “Peanuts is getting a mate, so he can breed,” she says, putting down her phone. “How did it go? Was she upset we aren’t throwing a snobby party with finger food and a string quartet?” she grins as she asks.

“She took it okay.” Paul shrugs. He doesn’t want to throw a party on his mom’s terms, but the desire for one on their own lifts its head at Emma’s words.

“Did she think I was pregnant?” Emma asks, leaning forward.

“No,” Paul smiles, “or if she did, she kept it to herself.”

“She’ll probably keep an eye on me the next time we see them. I should drink loads of alcohol. Maybe even smoke a little,” she laughs at the idea. Paul smiles fondly as Emma cackles. She’s just the perfect antidote to his family’s weird obsession with status and prestige. She makes all interactions with them much better.

* * *

The café is filled with people drinking coffee and eating large plates of brunch. The windows and doors are wide open, so the air can breeze through and stop the place from getting stuffy. Emma has found a small table in the corner and is waiting for Melissa, scrolling through her phone. There is an instastory from Zoey, showing the sun rising over some city landscape and a caption saying _my reward for getting up early._ Emma scoffs and closes it again. It’s typical Zoey crap, but it does remind her it has been ages since they talked.

She’s interrupted by Melissa arriving in a flutter. _“Hi!_ ” Melissa says, sounding out of breath. She swings her hair over one shoulder and nearly hits someone behind her. “Thanks so much for meeting me. I _really_ needed a reason to avoid helping Ted assemble Ikea furniture.”

Emma laughs. She finds it infinitely hilarious that Melissa said no to helping Ted by claiming she had plans with _her_ right after Paul had agreed to help. She just wishes she could have seen Paul’s face. “You’re welcome. I just hope you know how big a sacrifice I am making for my self-image by having brunch with you semi-regularly.”

“ _Oh_ , shut up,” Melissa laughs, “you are here for the mini croissants like the rest of us.”

“No fucking comment,” Emma says and picks up a menu, even though she already knows what she’s getting.

They order their lattes and vegetarian brunch and then they spend around five minutes just laughing at the mental image of Paul, Bill and Ted attempting to assemble furniture. There is absolutely no way it’s going to go well. They would have been much better off if Melissa had been there to help them. She’s good at getting shit done. From what Emma can understand, the office wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly without her.

Melissa is just an all-round fantastic person and Emma is genuinely glad they are close friends. She was a bonus that came along with dating Paul. Emma remembers the first time they met. Paul had shyly asked if she wanted to meet his friends from work and she had agreed. When she saw Melissa, images of her and Paul on the street, talking and laughing in a way that at the time had seemed flirty, had resurfaced. But then Ted had introduced Melissa as Paul’s lesbian sidekick and Emma had felt embarrassed at her jealousy. Paul had of course told Melissa that Alice would fight her for that title and then Bill had said that Alice definitely thought of Paul as _her_ sidekick.

Emma had told Melissa about being jealousy about a month later, when they were very tipsy, and Melissa had laughed so hard beer came out of her nose. She did however promise to not tell Paul, and that was probably the moment Emma knew they would be good friends.

She doesn’t have many close friends her own age. It helps to have an actual job and not serve coffee alongside theater nerds. Her new coworkers are pretty cool, but most of them are older than her. She doesn’t count Zoey as a close friend, because she often forgets why she likes her in the first place. Like today with the gross Instagram thing. So lame and basic.

Their food and coffee arrive. It all looks delicious. Speaking of Zoey, Emma takes a photo of the food with her phone and sends it to Zoey with the caption _my reward for sleeping in._

They eat and catch up. Melissa moved in with her girlfriend this winter and now they want a dog. Emma makes a noise in envy. She loves dogs. “I’m gonna be visiting constantly if you get a puppy. Consider yourself warned,” she says.

“I know,” Melissa smiles and sips her coffee. “Sharon was so cute about us getting keys to our apartment.”

“Amazing,” Emma grins, “Paul walked around with a spare key to the house for a month without finding the nerve to ask me. And then one morning I was finishing my coffee and asking him when he would be home, so I could time my arrival, and then I turn around and he is just holding out the key and not saying anything.” Melissa is laughing now, putting down her fork. Emma continues. “And I’m like _what’s this?_ And he says _do you want a key?_ ” It’s a favorite memory of hers. Just him standing there with the key like an idiot, with his bug eyes all big and nervous.

“Oh my God, Paul,” Melissa shakes her head.

“He is such a nerd. Back then he was still awkward as fuck. I have to work harder to throw him off now,” Emma says with a sigh.

Melissa eats some of her food, and her eyes seem to be reading Emma, almost inspecting her. “Speaking of Paul,” she starts, when she has finished chewing, “why are you breaking his heart and not throwing a wedding party?”

Emma frowns and stops cutting her pancake. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I just got the impression he actually wanted one, but you talked him out of it,” Melissa says. She’s still smiling and keeping her tone friendly, but Emma knows that steely look in her eyes.

“Talked him out of it? No, we had a discussion and agreed it wasn’t our thing,” she tries explaining.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says, but the memory of Paul muttering _okay_ a few times flashes in front of her eyes. “He was the one who suggested a barbecue for our ten-year anniversary.” Could Melissa be right? Had she talked him out of it? Did he actually want one?

“Emma,” Melissa says, leaning forward, “I get it, sometimes we all trample over Paul because he forgets to say what _he_ wants. Are you sure you had an open discussion and that you didn’t just impose what you wanted?”

Emma can feel her temper flare. Her impulse is to tell Melissa to fuck off and not try and meddle with shit she knows nothing about. But she fights it. Because Melissa is her friend. And she might have a point. Emma exhales through her nose. “I… don’t know,” she finally gets out.

“That’s what I thought,” Mel says in a gentle voice. Emma closes her eyes. _What the fuck Paul??_ Hadn’t he learned by now that he should _tell her_ what the fuck he wanted?? Why were they still having this problem? They were fucking married and this shit still happened!

“Why doesn’t he tell me this stuff?!” Emma ask angrily, making sure to keep her voice down.

“It’s Paul,” Melissa shrugs, “he’ll gladly set fire to himself to make you happy.”

Some of her anger deflates. Melissa is right. “Okay,” Emma says through her teeth and scratches her neck. _“_ Okay,” she mumbles again, “ _okay_.”

“ _Hey_ , Mrs. Paul Matthews,” Melissa snaps her fingers and Emma looks back up. “It’s going to be fine. He isn’t upset with you or anything.”

“I just wish he would have told me,” Emma says, and it comes out more sad than angry. Melissa smiles reassuringly.

“I’m sorry about bringing it up like this,” she says, “I just think you guys should talk about it.”

“Thanks,” Emma says, and she really means it, even though she probably doesn’t sound like it. She eats more of her food, feeling really weird about it all.

“I’m fucking full,” Melissa declares and puts her fork down with unnecessary effort. “I was going to go and look at lingerie, but now I just wanna nap.”

Emma lets out a small laugh. She doesn’t buy sexy lingerie often. It’s fucking expensive and Paul seems to drop his jaw whenever her underwear has just a little bit of lace. Or is black. Or if she’s naked. “I can go with you – boost your confidence as you try it on?”

“Awesome,” she says. Emma finishes her food and empties her now lukewarm coffee. They pay and leave, heading down to the shop Melissa apparently uses often. Emma lets her browse on her own, instead she walks over and looks at the pjs and fuzzy socks. It’s a good thing Paul likes to clean, especially since they have Lettuce. If Emma was going to clean up the cat hair, half the time she would just slide around the floors in fuzzy socks, so the hair would stick to the soles of her feet.

She has a message from Zoey. It’s a row of random emojis, followed by: _how are you?_ Emma sighs and types out _good. got married to paul recently actually_. The response is instant. _lol what? Really?_ Emma rolls her eyes and sends her a picture of the ring on her finger. Zoey replies with a row of surprised emojis.

Emma watches the screen as Zoey types more. w _hy wasn’t i invited? Is it cuz u knew i’d look better than u?_ Emma laughs for a moment. She types her response. _you’re so full of yourself._ The response from Zoey is just _I get it, it would have been v embarrassing for u._ Emma tells her to shut up, and then she refocuses on all the rows of lingerie.

She notices a _on sale_ sign on the back wall and walks over. Most of the stuff has too many dangly things or complex strap patterns on the back, which makes her think they’ll be a fucking hassle to take on and off. There is one deep burgundy bra though, simple but with a little padding and lace on the back. The matching underwear is cute too. Emma looks at the price. _Not bad_. There even is one in her usual size.

Melissa walks over with a handful of stuff, looks at the bra in Emma’s hands and grins. “Sexy.”

“Not sure Paul currently deserves me in new lingerie, but I could get it for a future occasion,” she says.

“Use it as a reward for speaking his mind?” Melissa suggests as they walk over to the changing rooms.

“I guess,” Emma laughs.

She ends up buying it. It looks great and isn’t uncomfortable to wear. Melissa tried on several sets and after some serious consideration, she joins Emma in line, holding two sets. “I decided not to get the olive green one. I _have_ one similar already. Even though I did rock it.”

“That you did,” Emma agrees.

They walk to their cars, both parked behind the café. Melissa hugs Emma tightly, moving her back and forth in a small pendulum motion. “I’m glad you’re my friend.”

“You too,” Emma says, “you get me. It’s nice.”

“And I can keep up with your tequila drinking,” Melissa says proudly and Emma laughs.

“Of course,” she says with a teasing smile. She and Melissa are both competitive and good at bad ideas which has led to some epic levels of drunkenness and some equally terrible hangovers.

“See you,” Melissa says and heads over to her car. Emma sighs as she watches her leave.

_Goddammit Paul._

When she comes home, she hides the new underwear in her dresser and heads back downstairs. Lettuce is asleep on the couch, and Paul has texted her that they aren’t done with the furniture. It’s probably good he isn’t home, because she is still fuming over this wedding party thing.

She looks at the bookcase next to the couch. It's mostly filled with rows of books, separated by a few framed pictures. There is one with Paul and Alice and Bill at Alice's graduation. Emma took it and she's proud of it. Then there is an old photo Tom found amongst Jane's things. It's Emma and Jane, squeezed in next to each other in the large armchair in their childhood home. Jane is ten and Emma is six. She had just lost a tooth, which is evident in the wide grin she is sending the camera.

Her heart thumps. The pain and guilt haven’t disappeared completely. She's sure it never will. But she's gotten a lot better at appreciating what they _did_ have. Like the moment this photo was taken, both of them laughing at something. Or how they used to play make-believe games. Jane was fantastic at coming up with stories and they would dress up in their mom's old clothes and sing and dance to music. Or the times while they were both teenagers and their mother would be extra annoying and their eyes would meet in solidarity for a few seconds, both momentarily forgetting their current disagreement.

Tom and Tim still go to the cemetery pretty much every week. Emma goes with them from time to time. They still tell Jane about what they have been up to. Emma has found that she doesn't need to be at the cemetery to feel close to Jane. She likes going, leaving flowers and pretty rocks or seashells. But she can just close her eyes and recall her sisters face.

_I really married the guy, Janey. Can you believe it?_

She touches the picture for a moment, before looking at the last one. It is a picture of her and Paul when she graduated from community college this winter. She’s grinning of course and Paul is looking at her with so much pride and awe. No one has ever looked that proud of her before. Her throat tightens

_Jane, what should I do about this party?_

She picks up the picture of them and sits down on the loveseat. Melissa’s words about Paul setting fire to himself to keep her happy echo in her ears. It’s true. She’s angry at him for not telling her, but she’s also angry at herself for not noticing. Because Paul choosing to not have a wedding party for her sake is not really something new. He waited with calling them boyfriend and girlfriend until she was ready. He didn’t ask to be introduced to her family, instead he waited until she had suggested it. She has been the one dictating every new step in their relationship. She has been really fucking lucky that he lets her be in charge.

She bites her lip as she thinks.

She tries to imagine what a party would be like. It would be a lot of hassle, and she doesn’t like how it feels like a performance. Like they have to show people that they are in love for it to be legit. She glances back at how Paul in the picture is looking at her.

Maybe a party to celebrate they found each other isn’t downright terrible? She feels a tug in her heart. _Fuck_ , she just loves his round face so much. She touches the ring on her finger. Wouldn’t she do anything for him? She continues to stare at the picture as an idea begins to form in her mind. If she can pull this off, it will be fucking epic.

She pulls out her phone and shoots a text to Melissa before she can change her mind.

_Will you help me plan a surprise wedding for Paul?_

* * *

It’s another warm day and Paul is tired as he bikes home from work. They have sent of all the necessary numbers to the accountant, and his schedule will loosen up a bit now. Thankfully. He has missed having evenings with Emma, without having to go to bed early. He can go back to his normal meeting time, which will be a relief. He enters the house, and he can smell something cooking in the kitchen. He decides to head upstairs and take off his suit before saying _hi_ to Emma. He is considering a shower. He feels sticky from the warm day.

He enters the bedroom and jumps in surprise as Emma slams the closet door with a _bang_. “You’re home!” she says, clearly also surprised. Paul exhales loudly, hoping his pulse will slow down.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he says, “I thought you were in the kitchen.”

“No, sorry,” she shrugs, “but I should go check on the food.” She walks over to the door, running a hand over his chest as she passes him. He grabs her wrist and pulls her back, so he can kiss her. She smiles against his lips, before continuing her way out of the room. Paul watches her go, admiring how her ass looks in her shorts.

A piece of clothing is poking out of the closed closet door. It turns out to be the sleeve to the suit jacket he wears at parties. His parents had it sown for him for his sister’s wedding. It’s a little used by now. Paul pushes it back properly in the closet and finds a t-shirt and pair of khaki shorts. He heads back downstairs and into the kitchen. Emma isn’t there, but a pot of tomato sauce is bubbling away nicely on the stove. It smells delicious.

He walks into the living room to find her, just as she comes through the door from the backyard. She is putting her phone into her pocket and smiles at him when she sees him. Paul wonders if she took a call outside. Normally, she’ll be on the phone while sprawling over him and talking loudly. “There you are,” he says.

“Here I fucking am,” she grins, walking over to him. Her hands land on his hips, and she hooks her thumbs through his belt-loops. “I am gonna make stuffed cannellonis for dinner.”

“Sounds delicious,” Paul says. He wraps his arms around her. “I missed you.”

“Fucking softie,” Emma mutters, while standing on her toes and closing the distance between them, so she can give him a long and deep kiss. Paul feels better already. He really did miss her. But now, smelling her peach shampoo and feeling her small, warm frame against him, he is a little more home. When she pulls back, she takes his hand and pulls him with her into the kitchen. It turns out she has opened a bottle of wine and she pours them both a glass. “Ted told me to let it breathe or whatever before drinking it, so..” she says with a shrug.

Paul helps her cook. He whisks the eggs and takes out the ricotta cheese while she heats up spinach and pine nuts in a pan. He hands her the bowl of eggs and the cheese, and while she stirs it together, he takes out the good ovenproof dish. He starts helping her make the cannellonis, but he when he has filled two with the spinach goo, she is on her fifth, so he lets her finish them. Then he just leans against the counter and watches her pour tomato sauce into the dish, place the cannellonis and pour the rest of the sauce over. Then the mozzarella and parmesan are put on top and Emma puts the whole thing into the warm oven.

She fries some cauliflower in butter and garlic while Paul tells her about his day, and they sip wine. When it’s time to eat, Emma smiles like she is up to no good. “I was thinking,” she says, picking up two plates, “that we could eat in front of the TV and maybe continue _Avatar_?”

Paul beams at the suggestion. Emma had apparently been backpacking while the show had been sent on TV and never watched it, so he recently decided to show it to her. They are almost in the middle of season 2 but had to take a break while he worked extra hours. Based on the eagerness in her step as she sets the table, she has missed it. It makes him very happy that she likes it and they are sharing it together.

The food is delicious, and Paul eats until his stomach begins to hurt. Then they cuddle up on the couch, watching another episode. Emma laughs hard, when Zuko yells at the storm to strike him down. “Oh my God,” she says and wipes a single tear from under her eye, “teenage Emma would have related _hard_ to that emo boy. I love him.”

“He is great,” Paul says, “although Toph is my favorite. She’s small, mean and badass.”

“ _Booo_ , nerd,” Emma says, and clicks play on the next episode. “Was she always your favorite?”

“No, but in the recent years I have grown to appreciate those traits,” Paul says. Emma pinches him.

“If people ask, I don’t know you,” she says, “you sappy, sappy nerd.” Then she snuggles up closer against him. Paul kisses the top of her head.

* * *

Hidgens is looking at something through a microscope when Emma walks back into the lab. “Professor,” she says, “I made lunch.”

He looks up at her in surprise, before checking his watch. “Time sure does fly, Emma!” he declares, and steps away from his work. Emma moves back upstairs to the kitchen, where she has prepared food for them. The professor often forgets to eat and then he only has canned soup or something equally sad, so Emma usually brings groceries and makes them lunch on the days she is there to work.

Today she made them a huge portion of coleslaw and fried some chicken, so he will have leftovers. Hidgens smiles when he sees the setup and after washing his hands, he sits down at the kitchen counter and begins eating. Emma copies him and they sit in silence for a while.

“How is the wedding planning?” Hidgens suddenly asks, before pilling more food onto his plate.

“It pretty much sucks.” Emma says and sighs deeply. She takes a sip of water. “A friend is helping me, but it’s still a drag. I don’t give a shit about flower arrangements or hymns.” Hidgens nods. He gets it. “We had a load of trouble getting a tuxedo for Paul, because I can’t ask to measure him, so I had to measure his old suit, but I’m gonna be honest, he wears them too big. So, there was an extra challenge in finding out how to make it slimmer.” Emma cuts through her slice of chicken, “plus he nearly caught me measuring the suit.”

Hidgens chuckles. “Anything you put your brilliant mind to, will be incredible!” he says.

“Thanks,” she says, sending him a soft smile. “We are gonna look at dresses soon. It’s the only thing I’m looking forward to. Gotta find a way to blow that nerd’s mind.” She cackles. They talk more, until they have finishes their food. Hidgens begins cleaning up. Emma looks at her watch.

“ _Oh_ , crap, I gotta call Paul’s family now,” she says, “do you mind?”

“It’s fine,” Hidgens waves her off. He’ll clean and return to the lab, as always. Emma hops down from her stool and walks into the hall, dialing Paul’s sister. She remembers the first time Paul showed her pictures of the family. He had pointed to his tall and attractive sister and Emma had nearly died laughing. _Your sister’s name is Karen? Like, for real? Karen!?_ Paul had nodded, fighting his own smile.

“ _Hello_ ,” Karen answers.

“Hi, it’s Emma, I hope I’m not disturbing.”

“ _No, it’s fine_ ,” Karen says, and Emma can’t tell if she’s sincere or not.

“Great, it’ll just be a minute,” she says, “so, as Christine has probably mentioned, I have decided to surprise Paul with a wedding party. And I just wanted to tell you when and where, and y’know, hear if all four of you wanted to come.” Emma says the whole thing as fast as possible. Karen is nice enough, and she seems to genuinely want Paul to be happy. There is just something about the family that rubs Emma the wrong way.

“ _Let me find a pen_ ,” Karen says. She scrambles in the back, and then she writes down what Emma tells her. “ _So, at the church at 2 p.m.?"_ she repeats.

“You got it,” Emma says.

“ _All four of us would like to come_ ,” Karen says.

“That’s great!” Emma says. They say goodbye and then she is calling Paul’s brother.

 _“Emma! What’s up_?” he hollers into the phone. She goes through the same speech as before, telling him where to show up and asking if they are all coming. “ _Annie is super psyched to go. It’s cool to bring Cam, right? I can’t promise he won’t cry._ ”

“Cam is very welcome,” Emma says. Cameron is their two-year old toddler and he is pretty cute. “Remember I am surprising Paul, so no mentioning it to him.”

“ _You got it_ ,” Ben says and then he hangs up.

Then there are just the parents left. Emma decides to call Christine. For a moment she had considered calling Jeremy, just because he hasn’t asked her _one_ question since meeting her, and she is sure he would find it awkward. But she ends up calling Christine, who seems like she is actually looking forward to the wedding party.

“ _Emma, sweetie, great to hear from you_ ,” she chimes into the phone. Emma wonders what her real voice sounds like.

“Just giving you the final information for the wedding,” she says, and tells her when and where the ceremony is going to be held.

“ _Well, of course Jeremy and I will be there! I am looking so much forward to it_ ,” Christine promises. “ _How is the planning? Have you picked a dress yet? We still have Paul’s grandmother’s veil, it would be so lovely if you used that. Although I understand if you want to pick your own._ ”

“I haven’t found a dress yet, but I’m going out looking soon,” Emma says, trying to keep track of all the information streaming out of Christine’s mouth.

“ _Of course, dear. Now, I had a full ballgown. It was the fashion back then, but I am sure you and Paul prefer something simpler,_ ” Christine says. Emma frowns. Was that an insult? “ _How about the flowers? Is that floral shop over on East Cameron still there? They made the flowers for Karen and Brody’s wedding and they were absolutely divine._ ”

“Uh-”

“ _Oh, listen to me chatter. Emma, sweetie, you can call me if you need to discuss any of the planning,_ ” she says, “ _we really want to help_.”

“Thank you so much, I will call if I have anything, I promise,” Emma says and then she adds, “Take care. Say _hi_ to Jeremy from me.”

“ _I will. You take care too_ ,” Christine says and hangs up.

Emma has invited everyone else already and they are all coming. Even Hidgens is leaving the house. She had spent a long time debating whether to invite Paul’s family or not. One the one hand _ugh_ , but on the other hand, Emma knew what missing out on things meant. Maybe some time down the line, it would mean something to Paul and his siblings that they had been there.

Professor Hidgens is back to working when she enters the lab. He is writing on a white board, and the marker is making a squeaky noise across the surface. Emma sits down at her microscope and continues where she left off.

“Hmm,” Hidgens says.

“What?” Emma asks.

“Nothing,” he says. Emma shrugs and continues working, even though all the wedding planning keep running through her head. Paul has to leave the house, so the reception can be prepared, the cake has to be delivered and kept cool. Who knows how Lettuce will react to all the people showing up?

It feels like so much can go wrong, but she reminds herself that the point is to surprise Paul and celebrate that she found him. It’s about Paul.

 _Her Paul_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo you made it all the way down!  
> I hope y'all liked this. Would LOVE to hear your thoughts on it. Or of you spot a typo or mistake. I am doing my best in my second language here... 
> 
> I recently watched atla for the first time and since I'm now OBSESSED, I had to include it somehow. 
> 
> If you want to come say hi on tumblr, you can find me here: [tutselutse](https://tutselutse.tumblr.com/). I always wanna discuss paulkins, other starkid things.. atla. you name it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *clears throat* so um, this is 12k... I have no self control, man...  
> I actually wrote most of it before Forever & Always, but I did sneak in a few details from things we know now.  
> I hope you all like it! Thank you for all the love you have shown this fic!!!

Emma sits on the bed with her laptop open on her legs. It’s 11.30 pm and she has the nightlight on and a glass of water next to her. She just needs to go over everything one last time before tomorrow, so she is sure everything is under control. There are emails and plans and lists to check. Paul is sprawled out next to her, naked chest and bare legs not covered by the sheet. He’s out cold, snoring lightly. He had been very needy for attention tonight, continuously kissing her and nuzzling her neck. It had taken some effort to tire him out, but eventually it had worked. She’s now dressed in his t-shirt and has a silk scarf wrapped around her drying hair in an attempt to make her curls fall nicely tomorrow.

She goes through the time plan Melissa had made for her. She had given it a few tries herself but gave up. She hates planning. Melissa is good at it– she could be a party planner to be honest. There are sharp timestamps and notes about buffer time and it’s all color coded. It’s very impressive.

Emma is going to Melissa’s tomorrow to get ready, but she needs to get Paul out of the door first. Melissa has the bouquet. Everything for the little reception after has been settled as well. At least according to the emails and agreements. Emma had decided that if _she_ was throwing the party, she could make it as lowkey as possible. She had told all the guests that it wasn’t a stiff and fancy party. She hoped people stuck to that in terms of dress code. She hadn’t given them a list of wishes either, instead just saying if people wanted to give something, they’d like a small donation to the party. This wasn’t going to be a performance of love. This was supposed to be a nice day for Paul.

When she has looked over everything twice and it still seems under control, she closes the laptop down and takes a sip of water.

 _Holy fucking shit_.

Now it is really happening. After a few weeks of planning, it is going down tomorrow. _Properly_. They have been married for over a month now, but tomorrow they are going to celebrate it with their loved ones and Paul’s family.

She looks down at Paul, who is still sound asleep. His eyelids are fluttering from dreaming and his chest is rising and falling. Emma smiles to herself. A little over three years ago, she had looked at him as he slept and had a full-on crisis over her feelings for him. How things have changed now. Sure, sometimes it bothers her that she can’t just pack her old hiking backpack and leave town, but whenever she imagines going back to Guatemala or going somewhere new, Paul is always going with her or meeting her there. That awkward beanpole she met at a bar has wormed his way into her life and become a permanent part of it.

Paul stirs slightly, stretching out his legs. Emma’s heart flutters as she looks at his long, gangly body. He looks so peaceful and happy. Unaware. She smirks. He has no fucking clue what’s going to happen tomorrow. She can’t wait to see his dumb face react to it all.

She packs the laptop away, turns off her light and curls up next to him. He turns in his sleep, wrapping an arm around her and Emma exhales deeply. _You better get ready, Matthews._

* * *

Paul wakes up and to his surprise discovers he has slept in quite a lot. Emma isn’t in bed anymore, but Lettuce is sleeping next to him. He crawls out without disturbing her and picks up his glasses. He walks over to his dresser and picks up a clean pair of underwear and a loose t-shirt. He puts on a pair of khaki shorts and walks barefoot down the stairs.

He eats a bowl of cereal on a chair in the backporch. There is a steaming cup of coffee next to him and he watches the few cotton clouds slowly drift across the sky. It’s a lovely day and he is meeting Bill for a nice long walk. It had been Emma’s idea. She had asked when the last time the two of them really had a long talk, and Paul had realized it was too long ago. Bill came up with the idea for a walk.

When he is done, he rinses the bowl and the pot and puts it away in the dishwasher. He wipes down the table and then Emma emerges from the dining room, placing her phone on the table. She wraps an arm around him and rest her head against his chest.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asks, running his hand up and down her arm gently.

“You looked so peaceful,” she says. “ _and_ I never wake up before you. I had to take advantage of that.”

“What are you gonna do today?” he asks. She’s silent for a moment.

“I’m heading to the post office and then I might visit Hidgens. And the cemetery.”

“ _Oh_ , do you want me to go with you?” he asks.

“You have plans with Bill,” she says, running her thumb back and forth over his side.

“You just let me know,” he says and kisses the top of her head.

“When are you leaving?” she asks. Paul looks at his iPhone.

“Soon,” he answers. “I’m coming home for dinner though, so we can have a nice evening together, since I slept away our morning.”

“Sounds good,” she says and looks up at him with a smile he can’t read, “maybe you can bring a pizza with you?”

“Definitely,” he says and kisses her softly.

“It’s a date,” Emma grins, clapping his chest. Paul brushes his teeth, puts in contacts, packs his things and stops in the kitchen to kiss her again before leaving. He takes his bike over to Bill’s house, enjoying the soft breeze on his face. It’s going to be a great day for walking in the woods.

He parks the bike next to Bill’s garage and walks up the porch with a spring in his step. He knocks, but no one answers. The door is open, so he walks in, calling out a _hello_.

Paul pokes his head inside the living room, spotting Bill. He turns around and Paul frowns at what he is wearing. It’s a nice, light grey suit, a crisp white shirt and dress shoes. _That’s weird_. “You’re not ready for a walk?” Paul asks, disappointed.

“We’re not going on a walk today,” Bill says with a kind smile.

“We’re not?” Paul takes a few hesitant steps into the living room. Bill is looking at him like he is expecting some kind of reaction, but Paul doesn’t know what. This is very confusing.

“No, you’re not,” Alice’s voice sounds behind him, and Paul whirls around in surprise. She’s dressed in a long, blue dress, heels and her hair is pinned up on top of her head, with only a few long strands framing her face.

Paul freezes. In her hands is a coat hanger, and when he realizes what’s hanging from it, it’s like something heavy smacks him in the back of the head.

“Is that a tuxedo?” he asks, his voice shaking. _Like for a wedding?_

“Yes,” Alice smiles warmly.

“Is it for me?” his voice shakes even more and when Alice nods, warm tears spring from his eyes. He covers his mouth with his hand, as a few sobs shake his chest. A tuxedo for a wedding party? Has Emma arranged a surprise wedding party for him? He moves over to the nearest chair, sitting down, while more tears escape down his cheeks. Alice comes over and claps his shoulder. He looks up at her. “I didn’t even shower this morning,” he laughs nervously.

“You can use our shower,” Bill says, “but you better move then, because we’re on a tight schedule from Melissa.”

Paul nods and he heads for the bathroom, taking the tuxedo with him. His heart his pounding fast. Is this really happening? Did Emma seriously do this?

He can’t believe it.

He is smiling so wide that he is worried he is going to pull a muscle. After drying his hair and body, he gets dressed slowly. The tuxedo fits him well, and he wonders how Emma pulled this off. He buttons the sleeves and fiddles with his cufflinks. He looks himself in the mirror as he puts on the jacket and he almost tears up again, thinking about all the trouble Emma went through to get him this. It’s a simple black tux, white shirt and black bowtie, and it looks great. The jacket is slimmer than his usual choice and it makes him look kinda sharp.

When he appears in the door to the living room, Alice whistles in appreciation, and walks over to put the boutonniere onto his tuxedo. Paul looks down at it. It’s a single white rosebud and a bit of baby’s breath. Bill grins and hands him his black dress shoes and Paul wonders when he got his hands on them. While Paul ties them, a voice sounds from the door, calling out “Are you guys ready?” and then Deb walks inside. She’s wearing a burgundy suit with a black shirt and doc martens. She grins at Paul. ”I’m driving,” she explains, before giving him a quick hug.

“Great to see you, Deb,” Paul grins. They all start walking towards the door, and Alice hands him a small pack of tissues and smiles secretively. Paul nods in thanks and puts it in his pocket. He is definitely going to need it. When they reach the car, Bill lifts up his camera and takes a photo of them. Alice clicks her tongue impatiently as he continues taking pictures.

Several cars are parked in front of the church and Paul pulse quickens again. _This is fucking happening_. He can’t wait to see Emma, although he isn’t even sure what he will say to her. He’ll probably just kiss her for half an hour. And cry some more.

They wait outside for some time, and Bill takes more photos. He gets a few good ones of just Deb and Alice, standing with their arms around each other. Deb offers to take pictures of the three of them, and Paul stands between Bill and Alice. His hands are getting clammy and his heart is pounding, but he’s still smiling wide.

Finally, Alice and Deb head inside to signal it all is starting. Paul takes a deep breath, and Bill claps his shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” Paul says and then he pulls Bill into a big hug. “Thank you,” he mutters.

“You’re welcome,” Bill responds, tightening his grip a little before letting go.

“Let’s do this,” Paul says with determination, and then he and Bill open the doors and walk inside, heading up the aisle. Paul tries to look at the people watching him, but he is unable to focus on any of their faces as he walks up towards the altar. He takes the two steps up, and Bill stands next to him, clapping his shoulder again. Paul looks down to the doors, which have closed again. He can hear his blood whoosh in his ears, and he is back to smiling like he is possessed.

_She really fucking did this for me._

The doors open again and Melissa steps inside, wearing a long dress with a brightly colored floral print. She smiles as she walks up to the front of the aisle and sits down, sending Paul a discreet thumbs up.

“Breathe,” Bill whispers and Paul realizes he has been holding his breath. He is so excited to see Emma! He really thought he wouldn’t get to see her walk down the aisle but that’s exactly what is about to happen.

The organ begins playing and Paul’s heart leaps up, trying to escape through his throat.

The doors open and there she is.

Emma is standing alone in the middle of the doorway, holding a small bouquet in front of her and she’s practically glowing in the warm light from the afternoon sun outside. She begins walking towards him on her own. Because of course Emma Perkins doesn’t need anyone to walk her down the aisle, thank you very much. Tears form in his eyes yet again.

Her eyes don’t leave him, and Paul’s smile grows even wider, which shouldn’t even be possible by now. She looks more beautiful than anything he has ever seen. He can’t stop running his gaze up and down her. He wants to look into her eyes, but he also wants to take in what she is wearing. Her dress is simple, a creamy white against her tan skin. It has a halter neck, and the neckline goes deep enough that it’s obvious she isn’t wearing a bra. As she comes closer, Paul notices a satin ribbon around her waist and little white flowers in her hair, pinning parts of it up. Most of her hair is falling down around her shoulders in thick curls. It’s not as wild as her morning hair, but it’s not tamed either. He feels a tug in his stomach. He _loves_ it when she has her hair down.

When she nears the altar, Paul realizes it’s not a dress after all, but a jumpsuit. It makes him grin because this is so _Emma_. She takes her own spin on everything. He just loves her so much; he can’t believe this is his life now.

She takes the final two steps up to him, and it takes all his willpower to not swoop her into a hug and a kiss. She’s smiling wide and playful as she looks up at him and takes his hand.

“I thought you didn’t want this,” Paul says in a low voice. He is still full of disbelief.

“I don’t,” Emma says, “but _you_ do. And that’s what matters. _I love you._ ”

“I love you too,” Paul says, and more warm tears run down his cheeks.

“If you cry, I’m gonna cry,” she says, shoving him lightly. “Thank God Melissa insisted on waterproof mascara.” Paul lets out a small laugh and then they look up at the priest. “Do your thing,” Emma tells him with a grin.

“You may be seated,” the priest says, looking out at the guests. Paul glances at them as they sit down. He hadn’t even noticed they stood up. “Before we begin, Emma has asked a friend, who is good with words, to say a few for the occasion.”

Melissa stands up and comes up to the microphone. She clears her throat and smiles. “I’ve always loved fairytales, and this is from the greatest fairytale of all time. The bible.” Paul and Emma both make a noise of holding back their laughs. “I have made some changes, because there is always room for improvement.”

Melissa looks around the room a little before she begins reading. “ _Love_ is patient, _love_ is kind. _Love_ is pushing your boyfriend to ask for that raise he has deserved for years. L _ove_ is taking your girlfriend to the emergency room for the cut on her foot. _Love_ is opening up and letting someone in. _Love_ is being stronger together.”

Paul looks down at Emma and smiles again. Her eyes are gleaming back at his, soft and warm. He can see a tear stuck in her eyelashes.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest says, “we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Emma Perkins and Paul Matthews.”

The ceremony itself is mostly for show, since they are already legally married, but Paul gets to enjoy it a bit more this time. It was so fast at the courthouse, but now he gets to really savor the look on Emma’s face every second. Her eyes are so full of life and she is looking at him like _she’s_ the lucky one. Occasionally another tear runs down his cheek, and he does nothing to try and stop it.

“Have you prepared your own vows?” the priest asks, and Paul panics as he looks down at Emma.

“Paul hasn’t had the chance to prepare vows, so I did it,” she grins, and takes out a piece of paper. “I’m going to read them for you,” she says, “if you had made your own vows, they would have been: Dear Emma. From the moment I met you, I liked you. All my friends would tease me with my very obvious crush on you. I bought so much shitty coffee so I could talk to you. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you would like me back enough to marry me like this. I am so freaking happy you do. You have taught me to relax, to trust that things will be okay even when I go with the flow and let things happen. You have taught me to believe in myself and my worth. I am so happy you like my cat. I love you. You’re super hot and funny and I am a very very lucky man.”

Paul wipes a tear from his eye as he laughs. She’s really fucking something.

“What about yourself? Do you have vows?” The priest asks, looking at her.

“Yeah she does,” Paul says, feeling inspired. He smiles at Emma as she makes an intrigued face. “Your vows would be something like this: Paul, you’re the biggest nerd, but it’s okay because you look cute in glasses. I love that you always laugh at my jokes and can take all my bullshit. I am very happy I married someone who likes to do the laundry.” He pauses as he thinks. “You showed me it’s not scary to settle down and take real risks. And that needing people isn’t always a bad thing. You’re my family and I love you.”

Emma is smiling like she can’t believe it. “Did you just come up with that, nerd?”

“I totally winged it,” he grins.

“Now that these unconventional vows have been exchanged, I would normally ask for the rings,” the priest says. Paul holds out his palm and Emma brushes her fingertips over his ring. He mirrors her action, and they smile like they are sharing a joke.

“You’re husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride,” the priest says. Paul moves forward, hearing Emma mutter a _finally_ under her breath. And then they are kissing, melting into each other. It feels like he hasn’t kissed her in days, and his hand slides over the soft fabric to the small of her back, so he can hold her closer. Emma’s humming in the back of her throat and her hands are pressing him against her. Neither of them can stop smiling as they continue kissing.

They break apart too soon, and Paul sneaks another quick kiss before looking out at their crowd of friends and family. Emma’s hand finds his and gives it a squeeze.

* * *

Emma and Paul exit the church hand in hand. Instead of rice being thrown at them, there is a wave of small and large soap bubbles flying through the air. Emma laughs as they duck their heads to avoid soap in their eyes, but promptly closes her mouth again. Paul is squeezing her hand and she can see most of their friends and family are taking pictures, so Emma looks up at Paul, cups his jaw and kisses him.

She hopes they get a good picture, with the soap bubbles around them, so they have something nice to put up next to their other pictures. Because, _yeah_ , she has become a sentimental asshole and she got surprisingly emotional at this wedding as well.

“I love you so much,” Paul whispers, “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I’m the best wife ever,” she grins. Paul laughs, causing crinkles around his eyes. She leans closer and whispers, “There is a small reception planned now, but I haven’t told your family yet, in case you wanted to ditch them here.”

Paul guffaws and wraps his arm around her, so he can give her a squeeze. “I guess I should include them,” he says and then he looks up at their guests.

As if it was the cue they were waiting for, people start swarming them with hugs and congratulations. Tim throws himself into their arms and nearly spills soap water down himself. “Timmo!” Emma grins and hugs him tightly. Paul begins talking to Tom and Becky, who stand behind Tim. Becky’s long red hair is falling in perfect curls around her shoulders, and her green silk shirt makes her look very pretty. Emma is pleased to see that she and Tom took the not-too-fancy instructions to heart. Tom is actually wearing something without a plaid pattern, so that’s impressive. He gives Emma a quick hug,

“ _Paul!_ ” a voice sounds and then Melissa has jumped into Paul’s arms. “Emma looks incredible right? The moment she put this on, I _fucking_ knew she would pick it.”

“She looks incredible, yes. But she always does,” Paul answers and Melissa scoffs.

“I know you think that, but it’s okay to be mind-blown after she made this big effort!”

“Okay, fine. It blew my mind. She is beyond hot.” Paul laughs as he answers. Emma fights her own laugh and hugs Melissa tightly, whispering a small _thank you for all the help_. They hug Sharon as well, and then Paul’s family is there. Emma receives hugs and a stream of congratulations, except for Paul’s dad who shakes both their hands shortly and nods. Emma doesn’t have time to reflect on it, because more people want her attention.

“ _Paulie!_ ” a voice hollers and then Ben is there, grinning from ear to ear. “I cannot believe you got married! Like w _haaat,_ bro _?_ To that little dame,” Ben says and winks at Emma, before attempting to give Paul a bro-hug. Ben is just a smidge shorter than Paul, but much broader build, with a wide chest and shoulders. Just like Paul and Karen, his eyes are round and brightly blue, but where Paul’s are attentive and kind, Ben’s are always gleaming with amusement or mischief and Karen’s are a bit calculating. At least that’s what Emma thinks, and she is definitely not biased.

“Thanks, Ben,” Paul says, just as Ben claps him hard on the back.

“Your vows were hilarious, I loved it,” Ben says, still grinning wide.

“I thought they were absolutely lovely,” Annie says, waving at them. She has Cam on her hip. 

“Of course, you did,” Ben laughs and then he walks over and straight up lifts Emma into a hug. “You deserve my big bro, who is definitely the smartest person I know. Congratulations on officially joining the family.”

“Thanks,” Emma tries to say, but most of the air got knocked out of her lungs.

“Ben, put her down,” Annie says.

“Yeah, put down my wife,” Paul says with a grin, his eyes meeting Emma’s. When Ben complies, Emma makes sure her jumpsuit isn’t suddenly fitting wrong. She’s not having any nipslips at her wedding party! Maybe she should have used tape, like Melissa suggested.

Ben and Annie walk off and then Bill, Ted and Charlotte are cornering her and Paul and congratulating them. Ted steps near Emma with a look in his eyes that Emma doesn’t trust. She points her finger at him. “If you try to lift me up, I _will_ kick you in the balls,” she threatens, and he steps back again, lifting up his hands in defeat.

Charlotte is blabbering about how beautiful they are and dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief and Bill’s eyes look red and puffy from tears. Emma glances around the crowd to spot Hidgens, when her eyes land on a tall, slender frame.

“ _Zoey_?!” she exclaims, stepping away from Paul and his friends.

“You didn’t think I would miss it, did ya?” Zoey grins, and then both of them rush forward and they hug in an uncharacteristic moment of open caring.

“How did you know?” Emma asks. Seeing Zoey here makes her realize that she actually really wanted her there. _Huh_. Strange.

“Melissa texted me,” Zoey says, after letting go. Then she punches Emma on the arm. “ _You_ didn’t invite me.”

“Figured you didn’t wanna come to something so lame,” Emma grins.

“True, you have become incredibly basic and suburban,” Zoey laughs. “But come on, I had to come here and look better than you.”

Emma laughs. She looks Zoey up and down. Her hair is cut shorter now, ending just above her shoulders. She’s dressed in a sleek purple dress, showing off her long legs. Her heels make her tower over Emma. “I’ll give you this, you did a pretty fucking good attempt.”

Zoey grins and gives Emma a very slow once-over, biting her lip and everything. It’s no wonder Zoey got the most tips back at Beanies. She’s flirting incarnated. “I think I failed though. _Damn_ Emma, I should have flirted more with you when you were single.”

“So really you’re here to elope with me?” she asks smugly.

“You see right through me,” Zoey grins, “now, I should probably go and congratulate your new husband for getting you to settle down.” Emma snort-laughs and gives her a small shove on the arm. Zoey smiles and then brushes past her. Emma glances over her shoulder just as Zoey exclaims, “ _Big dick Pauul!_ Congratulations, man!” and pulls him into a hug. Paul blushes deep red and Emma starts laughing.

Charlotte walks up to her, with Ted following close behind. “We’re gonna head up to the house and set up the food and drinks,” Charlotte says.

“Thank you. I’m gonna wait a bit before I announce it,” Emma says. They leave and she looks around at the small crowd of friends and family, smiling wide when she spots the familiar grey hair and turtleneck.

“Emma,” he says, walking over and taking her hands in his.

“I’m glad you could come, professor,” she says.

“Of course!” he says, as always talking emphatically. “You did something special here. Something _remarkable.”_

“If all these people are too much for you, you don’t have to stay for the reception. There is just going to be cheap champagne and a hella dope cake. I mean, I really blew most of my budget on the cake.”

“I would love to go to the reception,” Hidgens says. “I want to celebrate you and your marriage to that sweet young man. Plus, I just found out your brother-in-law’s girlfriend is a nurse, and I would like her opinion on something.”

Emma grimaces. She heard him complain about a weird rash last week, and she suddenly feels bad for Becky. Hopefully, he won’t try to show it to her. She squeezes Hidgens’ arm and walks back to Paul. He is talking to Alice and Deb, who definitely also cried. Emma stops next to them, snaking her hand into Paul’s.

“Everyone,” she calls out, “the reception is in our backyard. There will be snacks, something to drink _and_ a fucking delicious cake. Shit, sorry. Anyway, Paul and I will walk back now. Follow us or drive or whatever you want.”

She tugs Paul with her, first stopping by Becky, gently touching her shoulder. “My professor is here, and he might start asking you questions regarding his health and stuff. Just, y’know, signal me if you need to be saved. He can be intense.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Becky says and smiles like it means a lot to her. Emma blinks. _Whatever_. As they walk on, Paul lifts his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes. His weird investment in her and Becky becoming friends is annoying.

“Shut up, Matthews,” she says.

“I didn’t say anything,” he says

“Your face did,” Emma replies.

“That makes no sense,” Paul chuckles.

“Your face makes no sense.”

He stops walking and pulls her closer by their linked hands. “ _Hey_ ,” he murmurs, dipping his face close to hers.

“Hey,” she replies and then they kiss.

“You’re the absolute best,” he says.

“I know,” she responds and kisses him again. They resume walking hand in hand. After a moment, Paul clears his throat.

“Why did Zoey call me Big Dick Paul?”

Emma barks out a laugh. “Have a fucking guess, Big Dick Paul.”

“Oh my God, Emma!” His cheeks grow red again. “Do you tell her about … _stuff_?”

“Of course,” Emma laughs, “Zoey is weirdly interested in people’s sex lives.” His eyes look like they are popping out of his face. It’s freaking adorable.

“Do you tell Melissa about it?” he asks with a definite hint of dread in his voice.

“Paul,” Emma says, giving him an incredulous look, “of course I do.” He gulps and she smiles. “ _But_ unlike Zoey, she isn’t very interested in hearing about your penis.”

Paul frowns. “What’s wrong with my penis?” he asks, and then pauses, “wait. No. That’s a good thing. _Ahh_ , this is confusing.”

Emma watches him fondly. “Mel is more interested in your oral game. Since that’s more her area of expertise.”

“Em!”

“Don’t worry, I only have good things to say,” Emma grins and squeezes his hand. She really can’t wait to tease him for the rest of their lives.

“That’s a relief. I guess,” Paul says with a nervous chuckle. They near the house, and her heart leaps into her throat. She hasn’t seen the finished backyard yet and she’s a little nervous. They walk hand in hand around the house and Paul gasps.

The backyard is filled with twinkle lights, chairs and a few tables, all decorated with flower arrangements. Emma had bought a few tall glass vases, which are all now filled with white calla lilies. Emma lets out a small whistle. It looks really nice. She looks up at Paul and nearly lose her breath at the wonder and happiness on his face. This really is worth each and every stupid second of planning.

He looks down at her, and his free hand grabs her neck and pulls her into a deep, intense kiss. When he pulls back, he sighs. “I really fucking love you. This means so much to me,” he says, sounding out of breath. Emma lifts her hand so she can touch his. She licks her lips and looks into his beautiful eyes. Then she grabs his chin and pulls him close.

“Next time, you fucking tell me, if you actually really want something, capisce?” she orders, her tone a little hard. Paul’s eyes drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I know I should have.”

“Good,” Emma nods, “cuz I’m not doing this sort of surprise again.”

“Of course,” Paul says, and smiles apologetically. Emma can feel her expression soften. She lets go of his chin and rubs her thumb against his cheek. Something flickers through his eyes. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Emma feels her throat tighten. “You’re the only person I would do this for,” she says, her voice a little raspy from the honesty. He kisses her again a little harder. Then he rests his forehead against hers and sighs deeply. She closes her eyes for a moment and enjoys feeling close to him in their own little bubble.

“Let’s pop some bubbles!” Ted’s voice suddenly sounds next to them, as the others spill into the backyard. The two of them pull back and follow Ted and Charlotte towards the bigger table in the middle. Emma’s gaze drops down, noticing that their hands are linked, with intertwined fingers. She elbows Paul and points discreetly.

“When did this happen?” she asks under her breath.

“I don’t know, it must be brand new,” Paul whispers back. “I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Emma says, thinking back on the time the whole thing with Sam and Zoey was revealed. Fuck that guy. It’s good that both Charlotte and Zoey have moved on.

“How did you set all this up?” Paul asks, when they stop by the table and look around.

“Well, after you left, I let in Ted, Charlotte and Tom and they did everything while I went to Melissa’s and got ready,” Emma explains.

“Wow, so everyone has helped?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Emma says with a smile. Ted pops a bottle and begins pouring the very fake champagne into flutes that Charlotte hold out to him. He hands the full ones to Melissa, who puts them down on the table. As their guests each get their hands on a flute, Emma sighs in satisfaction.

She really fucking pulled this off.

Paul knocks two glasses together when everyone has a drink. “ _Um_. Hi everyone. I am sure Emma has some information about the reception. As you all know, I have no idea what is going to happen.” They all laugh at his joke. “But, _uh_ , I wanted to take this chance to thank everyone for coming. And to thank all of you who have helped Emma put this whole thing together. It means more to me than you’ll ever know. So, I would like to toast to you and to my Em, who is freaking fantastic.” He lifts his glass, and they all copy him.

Emma takes a big sip off her off-brand bubbles and grins at the disgusted face Ted pulls. “Paul is right,” she says in a loud and clear voice. “There is a bathroom on the bottom floor, just past the kitchen. Please make sure you don’t drag piles of dirt inside and don’t frighten the cat. There are snacks around on the tables and some more waiting inside, and then in a little while, we will cut the cake. Please mingle and talk. We don’t want a formal party, instead you should relax and have a good time. And _uh_ , let’s toast to you guys and me for keeping this whole thing a secret. And to Paul, who is a goddamn dingdong, but also definitely the best guy out there.”

People laugh and they all drink again. Paul places a hand on the small of her back and leans down to kiss her. He is such a good kisser and thank God for that. Those lips tempting her into a kiss was what started it all. She remembers it vividly, sitting there outside the bar and not paying attention to whatever he was complaining about, just thinking about how his lips looked so kissable. He pulls back and she smiles as she remembers the look on his face when he finally realized she wanted to go home with him.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m just really glad you caught the hint to invite me home from that bar,” she says and Paul blushes.

“I didn’t wanna presume,” he says.

“I know,” she says, kissing him again, “after some more deliberate kissing, you caught on. And now here we are.”

“Here we are,” he agrees. He kisses her temple and looks around them. “Alright, wifey, let’s mingle.”

Emma laughs. She slaps his ass and says, “let’s go, slim”.

The first people to find them is Paul’s parents and sister. Karen has her two daughters with her, both of them dressed in pretty purple dresses. The eldest, Julia, has glasses and her blonde hair is pulled into a neat French braid. She’s pretty adorable, always talking about some new book she is reading. She peeks up at them both shyly. The younger girl’s hair is no longer in a neat French braid, and there are stains on her white socks. Her name is Lucy Jane and Emma appreciates the irony of the younger unruly sister being named Jane. At the few family gatherings she has been two, Karen’s husband Brody has spent most of the time following Lucy Jane around to stop her from climbing on things and making messes of herself or her surroundings. She’s easily Emma’s favorite member of Paul’s family.

“Congratulations, Uncle Paul,” the girls say in unison and Paul crouches down to hug them both.

“Thank you, girls, I am so glad you could be here,” he says. Then he stands back up and smiles at his sister. The girls seize the opportunity to run off and Emma laughs to herself.

“Well, I tried,” Karen says with a defeated laugh. Then she smiles warmly at both of them. “This was unconventional, but in a good way. Somehow very you, little brother,” Karen says.

“I’m definitely taking that as a compliment,” Paul says with a laugh.

“ _Oh_ , Paul, Emma,” Paul’s mom coos, “you make such a beautiful couple.” Christine is definitely too fancy for Emma’s dresscode. She has a small white fur draped over her shoulder, her almost white hair is pinned up and she’s wearing a very expensive-looking dress and matching shoes. Jeremy is behind her, in a beige suit and a matching hat. His beard is mostly grey and finely trimmed. Emma plasters on a wide smile.

“Thank you, Mom,” Paul says, as his mom grabs his hand and squeezes it.

“At first, I was disappointed to not have been invited to the actual wedding, but this? Emma, dearest, it’s just the most romantic thing. I was just telling Katherine, my tennis partner, that I had gotten the most creative and driven daughter-in-law, and here we are. A surprise wedding. It must have taken such determination, Emma, to pull this off without Paul knowing a thing. I dare say no one in our country club has been to a wedding like _this_.”

Emma can see a muscle work in Paul’s jaw, and she places her hand on his arm, smiling widely at Christine. “Thank you so much. I am glad you can see all the hard work I put into this. And we are so happy you could make it.”

Then she’s being be pulled into an awkward hug and she nearly gets overwhelmed at the scent of Christine’s perfume. “Oh of course, we wouldn’t miss it for the world. Our sweet little Paul getting married, it’s all we ever wanted,” Christine says. She steps to the side, to let her husband come closer. Jeremy Matthews clears his throat and nods.

“Congratulations, son,” is all he says. Christine is sort of annoying, but Emma definitely dislikes Jeremy the most.

“Thank you for coming,” Emma says, giving him her fakest customer service smile, “Your eldest son getting married must be a big day for you.”

“Of course,” he says. Then he sips the champagne and his lips curve ever so slightly in dislike.

“Don’t break your face smiling,” Emma says. It’s dead quiet for a moment and then Karen laughs.

“ _Oooh_!” Christine claps her hands together, “do you have plans for a honeymoon?”

“Not unless Emma has laid plans,” Paul says with a shrug.

“No, I kinda used all the money on this,” Emma admits. She glances at Paul. “I hope you get paid for all that overtime you did.”

“I do,” he says and smiles warmly. Like everything is going to be okay.

“Jeremy,” Christine says, “why don’t we lend them the keys to our lake house? We’re not using it the next month anyway.”

“ _Oh_ , Mom, that’s not necessary,” Paul starts, but Emma elbows him.

“That would be great, actually,” she says, cutting him off.

“Well of course,” Christine replies with a sweet smile, “we want to do all we can to make you feel welcome in the family.”

Emma almost mutters _about time_. Paul seizes the moment to ask his mom about her tennis. Brody comes up to Karen and asks her where Lucy Jane is. He nods at Emma before leaving them again. So far, he and Emma have agreed on when they need a beer around Paul’s family and nothing else. She turns her attention towards Paul’s sister. Karen even has a Karen haircut. Her sharp look is softened slightly by the big round eyes.

“Your girls are so sweet,” Emma says, going for the easy small talk around parents.

“Thank you,” Karen says, “Julia talks about you and Paul a lot, after you gave her those Narnia books.”

“My sister and I used to read those,” Emma tells her, “she read a few of them for me actually.”

“That’s lovely,” Karen says. She glances around her. “I should probably help Brody find Lucy Jane. Y’know what she gets into,” Karen says apologetically and Emma nods in understanding. Karen pauses before leaving, looking her. “Emma, thank you for this,” she says, offering a genuine smile, “thank you for making my brother happy.”

“It’s kind of no big deal, since he makes me happy too,” Emma says, not sure what else to say. Karen leaves, and Emma looks back at Paul. He and his parents still talk tennis, so she slips away.

It’s good that most of Paul’s family seems happy to be here, but she doesn’t like that they act like Paul is _theirs_ and she is something new in his life. Like they are a close family, who see each other constantly and now got another addition. She isn’t being invited into _their_ world, they are being invited into _her and Paul’s_.

She finds Melissa and Sharon, who are standing by the salmon canapes. Emma likes Melissa’s girlfriend, not just because she makes Melissa incredibly happy, but also because she is kind of a badass and has a confidential job.

“I had to escape Paul’s family,” Emma says and Melissa nods sympathetically.

“You happy with how this party turned out?” she asks and sips from her glass.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks again,” she replies.

“You’re welcome,” Melissa grins.

“It’s good that you know how to plan a wedding, babe,” Sharon says, and then she’s definitely staring at Melissa’s lips.

“Oh yeah?”

Emma backs away from them and finds an open bottle so she can refill her glass. Becky and Tim walk up to her. “Is Lettuce inside the house?” Tim asks, excitement gleaming in his eyes. Emma is certain Tim approved of Paul the moment he found out about Lettuce.

“I think so. She might be hiding upstairs to avoid all the people,” Emma answers, “you can go look for her, but if she doesn’t wanna interact, you should leave her alone.”

“I promise,” Tim nods. He gives her a quick hug and then he rushes towards the house. Julia follows him.

“Can we see the cat?” she asks. Emma grins as she watches them head inside.

“You look so beautiful,” Becky says, looking at Emma, “and the vows were so perfect. I cried.”

“Thanks,” Emma says, offering her a small but genuine smile. “The best part of this is definitely the pockets.”

“Without a doubt,” Becky agrees, “pockets are the best. This is a really lovely wedding. I think I’d want something similar if I ever get married.”

“Really? But you have, like, a bazillion friends?” Emma asks. Becky laughs.

“True, I would end up inviting to many,” she laughs, “Stanley, my ex, he didn’t like it when I was too social. It’s been so nice to be with Tom and relax and reconnect with people again. And making new friends.”

“All due respect, but from what I can tell that guy was a straight up asshole.” Emma says, “I’ll beat him up for you if you want.”

Becky laughs and something flickers in her eyes. “That won’t be necessary. But _thank you_. It means a lot.”

“You just say the word, apparently I’m back in town for good,” Emma jokes dryly, and touches her wedding ring.

“Why don’t I go and distract your in-laws with stories from the pediatrics wing, while you rescue your husband? He looks like he needs it.” Becky offers, nodding towards them.

Emma looks at Paul and agrees. His smile looks incredibly strained. “That would be great,” she says, “you’re a hero, Becky Barnes.”

* * *

Paul listens to his mother as she continues detailing her last double match. His dad is sipping the champagne and looking at them uninterested. Then Becky joins them, smiling politely.

“Mother, have you met Becky yet?” Paul asks, when his mother stops to breathe for a second.

“No, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” Christine says, giving Becky one of her classic once-overs.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Matthews,” Becky says, shaking her hand.

“How do you know Paul and Emma?” Christine asks.

“I’m Tom’s girlfriend,” Becky answers, before adding, “Tom is Emma’s brother-in-law.”

Paul watches his mother blink as she tries to get it all to add up. “Mom, you remember what I told you about Emma’s sister Jane, right?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Christine nods, “such a tragedy.” She pauses for a moment, and when no one else speaks, she asks, “so what do you do, Becky?”

“I am a nurse at the pediatrics wing at St. Damien’s Hospital.”

That was the exact right thing to tell Paul’s mother. Her eyes light up and she immediately asks Becky to elaborate on the honorable and important work that she does. Even Jeremy seems to be interested in what Becky tells them.

Then Paul feels two hands wrap around his arm, and then Emma is next to him. “Can I borrow you for a second, honeybear?” she says in a tone that clearly indicates she’s mocking.

“Yes, of course, sweetheart,” Paul replies with a grin, nodding at the others before walking off with Emma.

“You looked like you needed a break,” Emma whispers.

“You read my mind,” Paul replies.

“Looks like your parents like Becky,” she says, and he worries she’ll be bothered by that. Like when she was worried that Tim liked Becky more. “I bet they wish you married her,” Emma jokes.

Paul stares at her for a moment. ”Maybe they do,” he says, “but I would never marry someone my parents approved of.”

Emma looks up at him with that special fond half-smile of hers. “I really lucked out with you.”

Paul blushes and smiles at her. “I think today I am the lucky one,” he tells her, looking around this wonderful party.

“It’s time to cut cake soon,” Emma says, “I just gotta run upstairs and change my shoes. I am officially done wearing heels.”

“You’re wearing heels? I didn’t notice,” Paul teases, sending her a shit-eating grin.

“Are you calling me short, Matthews?” she challenges.

“It sounds like it,” he answers.

“I am not short,” she says, tiptoeing closer, so she is standing right under his nose. “You’re just freakishly tall.”

“ _Mhmm_ ,” Paul says, and dips down to kiss her, but she ducks away and moves out of his reach.

“Kisses are for husbands not mocking their wife’s size,” she says and pokes out her tongue. Paul laughs. Emma turns on her heel and heads towards the house. Paul watches her go, enjoying the way the jumpsuit clings to her curves.

“Congrats,” a voice sounds, and a hand lands on his shoulder. He looks down at Alice and smiles.

“Thanks,” he says, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her into a side-hug.

“You’re fucking married, huh,” Alice says and Paul chuckles.

“Real fucking married,” he nods. “I wanna hear about college. Are you writing some good plays – without songs?”

“You wish,” Alice laughs, “but yeah. College is going really well. Deb and I are gonna move out of our dorms and rent an apartment in the middle between our two campuses.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, we talked it over on our roadtrip, and moving in together is the next step,” she says, “Deb is gonna buy a car, since she needs to transport art supplies and shit, but I am just gonna take the train and listen to podcasts.”

“I am so happy for you, Alice,” Paul says. Deb and Alice are still going strong and it makes him very happy to see. Deb had discovered she wanted to go to art school after she stopped playing in her band and got to draw and paint more. Bill was a bit disappointed, since he had thought her love for chemistry was one of her more redeeming qualities. However, as time had passed, Bill had softened his view on Deb.

No one was probably ever going to be good enough for Alice, but it had helped to see what a wonderful and self-assured young woman she was growing into and how she was thriving at school. Even Bill had to admit Deb wasn’t dragging her down but instead seemed to bring out good things in her.

“Has dad told you about his girlfriend yet?” Alice asks, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“He didn’t!” Paul gapes.

“It’s brand new, but I can totally tell he is dating someone,” Alice tells him, “I found a pair of reading glasses that are definitely not his _and_ a pair of nylons.”

“What a sneaky bastard,” Paul hisses.

“It’s a secret,” Alice smiles, “I think she works at CCRP.”

“Oh, I’m gonna dig into that.” Paul glances at Bill, who is currently talking to Annie and Cam, having a big and innocent smile on his face. Little kids have that affect on him.

“Hey, nerd, are you ready for some fucking cake?” Emma says. She’s now a little shorter and wearing her light blue sneakers. Paul looks up at the door, where Charlotte and Melissa are helping each other bring out the cake.

“Hell yes,” he grins.

“So, y’know how Mel’s mother is from Scandinavia?” Emma says, taking Paul’s hand in her own. He nods. “Well, apparently that means Melissa has a deep hate for American wedding cakes, and she dragged my ass all the way to Clivesdale to visit a Danish bakery.”

“Oh?”

“And buddy, this cake is the shit. It’s a layer of chocolate mousse and a layer of creamy raspberry mousse separated with a thin layer of crushed nuts and then the whole thing is covered marzipan that has been rolled out thin, because according to Melissa ‘ _fondant is the fucking worst’.”_

“That sounds intense,” Paul says, impressed. He looks at the cake, which has three tiers and white rosebuds cascading down the one side. It looks incredibly beautiful.

Emma clinks two glasses together again and then everyone forms a crowd around them and the cake. Paul steps behind her and places his hand on hers, so they can cut it together. Emma laughs as he lets her take the lead. Their piece tips over on the plate and Paul looks at the two layers curiously.

Playfulness gleams in Emma’s beautiful brown eyes and he sighs in acceptance, as she grabs a chunk of cake with her hand and feeds it too him by smearing half of it around his mouth. He leans down to kiss her, making chocolate mousse stick to her face and then he feels her lick around his lips. “This tastes so freaking good,” she mumbles. Paul looks down at her. Her hand is still covered in cake and she lifts it to his mouth. He waggles his eyebrow and licks her fingers.

 _Damn_ , that _is_ good.

“I’m gonna need my own piece,” he says, and reaches out for a napkin to wipe his mouth. A bit of mousse has fallen from Emma’s cheek and is down slowly sliding down her chest. She catches it with her finger and scoops it up and Paul has to look away. If his parents weren’t there, he might have licked it off himself.

People line up and Zoey clears her throat. “Emma, is the cake vegan?”

“ _Uh_ , no, sorry,” Emma replies. Zoey rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Remind me to get you a cookbook,” she says and steps away from the line.

Everyone has a slice of cake and Melissa defends the type to anyone even hinting at it being different. It’s quite amusing. Brody doesn’t seem impressed, but Annie loves it. Paul has just asked Becky about her plans for the rest of the summer when Julia and Lucy Jane appear.

“You look like Ariel,” Lucy Jane says.

“Thank you,” Becky says, touching her heart. “She’s my favorite Disney princess. Who’s yours?”

“Mine is Belle,” Julia replies.

“Olaf,” Lucy Jane says, and Paul fights a laugh.

“That’s a great choice, LJ,” he says before Julia can correct her. She grins at him and then she steps forward and hugs his leg. He exchanges a look with Becky, who looks like her heart has melted completely. Paul pats her head ,and she looks up at him.

“Can I have more cake?”

“I think you should ask you mom,” he replies. She pouts and walks off.

As more cake is eaten and more champagne is popped, Paul breezes around his guests, trying to talk to all of them. Or, at least most of them. He really doesn’t care about talking to Brody or his dad. Emma and Tom are talking and sipping champagne. He can see Alice and Hidgens sit in a deep discussion, waving their arms around, with two half-eaten pieces of cake forgotten on the table next to them. His brother Ben is running around with LJ and Tim, chasing them. Annie is talking to Bill.

Emma comes over and her arm wraps around his waist and she rests her head against his chest, because she apparently had too much cake. Paul jokes that she got her money’s worth. She laughs half-heartedly. Ben and LJ throw grass at Annie and Paul rolls his eyes.

“Annie is so sweet and great,” he says, “I honestly have no idea what she sees in my brother.”

Ben grabs Tim and lifts him over his shoulder and LJ yells _put him down_ and wraps herself around his leg to stop him from walking. Ben makes a big show of huffing and puffing as he dramatically continues to walk with both kids.

“Julia! Save us!” Tim yells and Julia runs forward to tug at his arm. All the kids are laughing and screaming.

“Y’know, I kinda get it,” Emma says.

“What?” Paul looks down at her.

“I’m just saying, Annie is kinda quiet and probably did all her homework as early as possible. Ben is outgoing, funny and good with kids,” she elaborates.

“I suppose you could be right,” he says after thinking it over. He mostly remembers Ben as a super annoying and loud little brother, leaving his dirty basketball jersey and socks everywhere and always playing music or yelling at the TV. Paul had never gotten his way when he wanted to read his comics in peace or do his math homework in the living room. It was always _let Ben do what he wants_ or _just go to your room if you don’t like the noise._

Karen would escape to her room too, but she often got to throw out Paul _and_ Ben from the living room if her girlfriends were coming over. In hindsight, Paul found that fair enough – he did use to stare at her friend Alaya all the time like a creep. And Ben was really no better.

“By the way, you look super hot in a tux,” Emma says, “you should get more suits this slim.”

“Thanks,” he says, and clears his throat while running a hand down the soft jumpsuit. “If I haven’t mentioned it already, I _really really_ like this.”

“ _Oh_ yeah?” she grins, “y’know what’s even hotter? I have to take the whole thing off when I use the bathroom, so I’m sitting in there completely naked.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “On the one hand, I do like a naked Emma,” he says, “but on the other, I’m not particularly into the image of you peeing.”

She laughs too and nuzzles closer to him. Then Tim and the girls come over, looking up at them with red cheeks and shining eyes from all the running around. “Aren’t you going to open _all_ those presents?” they ask. Paul looks over at one of the tables, where a small pile of gifts and envelopes has formed. It’s clear from the look on the kids’ faces that they wish they could open the presents.

“Wanna open some presents, wifey?” Paul asks.

“Hell yes, babe,” Emma says, clapping his ass yet again. He isn’t sure if _babe_ is a joke or not but knowing Emma it probably is.

They start opening gifts and Charlotte immediately volunteers to write down what they got from who. For a lot of the gifts, Paul lets one of his nieces help pull off the wrapping paper or cut the ribbons and Emma does the same with Tim. At one point even Cam helps them open a gift.

Their guests have each given them an envelope with some cash or a check, which Paul can tell has been on Emma’s request. But a lot of them have added other gifts as well. Emma starts laughing when she opens the one from Melissa, Sharon and Zoey. Paul looks over her shoulder and grins. It’s a few bottles of Emma’s favorite red wine and then what turns out to be matching _his and hers_ bathrobes.

“Thanks, I hate it,” Emma laughs.

“It was Melissa’s idea,” Zoey grins and Melissa does finger guns.

There are two bottles of real champagne from Ted and Charlotte, plus some kind of strawberry-flavored lube. Paul shakes his head at Ted while he quickly hides it. Bill, Alice and Deb have bought them some delicious coffee beans and their own coffee grinder.

Paul’s sister and her family got them a waffle maker, and Paul suddenly remembers Emma’s words when she was talking him out of the wedding party. O _ur love is better than, like, waffle makers and shit_. He fights a smile by pressing his lips together and from the way Emma’s jaw tenses up, she’s doing the same thing. Ben and Annie added some fancy Belgian chocolates to their gift and Paul’s parents gave them a _very_ generous amount of money _and_ some fancy bedsheets with a high thread count.

“ _Oh,_ and the lake house key, Jeremy,” Christine instructs. Jeremy sighs and hands Paul the key.

“Thanks Dad,” Paul says and nods. He moves over to Emma and mutters a question: “why did we say yes to the Lake House?”

“Because,” Emma whispers, grinning michieveously, “we’re gonna get back at them for being shitty by having the dirtiest, sweatiest sex in their bed.” At those words, Paul makes a noise in surprise and she claps his cheek. He really fucking loves this woman.

Hidgens leaves to get his present, and then Emma opens the envelope from Tom and Becky. She covers her mouth with her hand as she reads the number. _“Tom_ ,” she says, and it sounds almost like she’s complaining. She looks up with big eyes and shows it to Paul.

He swallows.

While it’s nowhere near the amount from his parents, Paul knows Tom has struggled financially before he finally got back to working full time, and seen in that light, it’s quite generous. From the look in Emma’s eyes, she’s having the same thought.

“Tom, Becky,” he says, look up at them with tears in his eyes, “this is incredible.”

“Yeah, well,” Becky smiles, “we wanted to do something nice for your wedding.”

“Yeah,” Tom says, not adding anything else. Becky gestures to the two boxes the envelope was placed on. One says Paul and the other says Emma. They take each theirs and open them, still silent from shock. Paul guesses that it’s a mug, and he is right. He lifts the white porcelain mug up and smiles when he sees what’s on it. The words _She cracks me up_ alongside a drawing of a happy and cracked open cartoon egg. Emma lifts a mug with a matching cartoon egg, although not cracked, and the words _because I’m eggcellent._

“I love them,” Paul says.

“I saw them and thought they were perfect,” Becky says.

“I told her to buy them,” Tim says proudly.

“You always know what’s up, Timmo,” Emma says and wraps her arms around him, resting her head against his hair. He seems to melt into the hug, and Paul puts the mug back in the box and down next to Emma’s. He looks around at his friends and family, feeling raw and emotional at all the nice things they have bought for him and Emma. He can’t believe they all did this. Especially Becky and Tom.

How is he ever going to do something for Emma that’s even remotely close to this?

There is a bustling noise and then Hidgens comes back, carrying a huge potted plant. Alice is walking a few steps behind him with two beautiful orchids in her arms. They are both huffing a little.

“Professor!” Emma says, and Tom rushes forward and takes the plant from Hidgens. “Are those some of the orchids you grow yourself in your greenhouse?” Emma asks, moving over to take one of them from Alice’s arms. Paul takes the other one. They really are spectacular. The one he has is a deep and dark purple, and the other one is white.

“These are beautiful, thank you,” Emma says and gives Hidgens a hug. Paul shakes his hand in thanks.

As they have made it through all the gifts, people spread out in the garden again. Paul decides another glass of champagne is due. He doesn’t want to drink too much, he wants to be able to remember everything from tonight vividly, but it’s been a while since he last had one.

After pouring his refill, he heads over to Tom and Tim.

* * *

Emma is having a great conversation with Deb when Zoey joins them, and the two others begin talking about veganism. Which, okay, is an interesting subject, but after a while she loses interest. She excuses herself and moves through the garden. The light is dimming now, and it’s getting a little cooler. The twinkle lights are casting a beautiful warm glow over the party and she smiles as she gazes around her.

She’s about to walk over to Hidgens and talk to him, when she spots Paul. He’s standing by Tom and Tim, and the three of them are deeply engrossed in their conversation. Paul is laughing and gesturing wildly like he always does when he is excited. The wave of happiness that hits her is overwhelming. While it knocks out her breath, it’s still a pleasant feeling of warmth and contempt. Paul is her absolute favorite person, but Tim is a damn close second and that they get along is the best thing she could have wished for.

The fact that Tom has warmed up to her and Paul, is something she never believed would happen. But they are a family now. It really happened. And now, looking at them, she misses Jane so much it makes her hands shake. It’s been lurking in the back of her mind, but especially after the gift from Tom and Becky, the feelings have moved to the front of her thoughts. She really wishes Jane could have been a part of this.

Her thoughts are interrupted, when little Cameron waddles over to Paul and tugs at his hand, before lifting his arms in the universal sign for _lift me up._ And Paul doesn’t even stop answering Tim, as he bends down and lifts Cam up on his hip, as if the motion is second nature to him.

Emma sucks in a breath. There is something about the sight in front her. It resonates something deep inside of her and she forgets where they are and what is happening. For a moment, it’s like Paul isn’t holding his nephew, but instead their child. It could be her own family in front of her.

She gets goosebumps down her arms. Her own little family – but without Jane.

She wipes a tear from her eyes and swallows.

_Jane¸ are you looking down from somewhere? Can you see us tonight? Are you happy for me? I hope you are. I am happy. Paul makes me happy. I wish you were here._

She closes her eyes and tries her best to recall her sister’s face. Tries to remember all the good things. Tries to yet again forgive herself for missing out on ten years. She looks over at Tim, who is leaning against his dad and smiling up at Paul.

A part of Jane _is_ here tonight, reflected in the clever gleam in Tim’s eyes and the dimple forming on his right cheek when he smiles.

“You alright?” Hidgens asks, having appeared next to her.

“Yeah,” Emma nods and wipes under her eye again, “just thinking about my sister.”

“I didn’t know her, but I can assure you she would have been proud of you,” he says.

“Thank you, professor,” she replies, sending him a half-smile.

“You’re welcome, Emma!” he says, pronouncing her name in that dramatic way he always does. Melissa walks up to them with an excited grin on her face. Emma looks at her in confusion. “What?”

“Time to throw the bouquet,” she says, clapping her hands together. Emma rolls her eyes at the excitement on her face.

The unmarried women gather in a small group, and Emma steps up on the porch so she can look down on them all. Paul lingers next to the steps, ready to watch it happen. Zoey, Melissa, Sharon, Charlotte, Becky, Alice and Deb look up with anticipation. Even Julia and LJ have joined them. Freaking adorable.

“Alright,” Emma says in a loud and clear voice, “I made this bouquet myself, so I expect you all to throw yourself on the grass to catch it if necessary.”

“It’s kinda unfair that the lesbian couples are represented with two people,” Zoey says with a cheeky smile.

“Sounds fair to me,” Melissa says.

“Yeah, aren’t you single anyway?” Alice adds. Paul laughs loudly at that comment. Emma nods and turns around. She takes a deep breath, looking down at the bouquet. She’s very satisfied with how it turned out, with white roses, peach colored carnations and baby’s breath. Luckily Melissa took a picture of it before they left for the church.

Emma glances behind her to make sure she’s aiming at the group of women. Then she looks back at the house and hurls the bouquet over her head. She turns around and is met with the sight of Becky Barnes holding the bouquet in her outstretched hand, staring at it in disbelief.

“ _Ah_ , crap,” Emma mutters, while the rest of them clap at Becky. Paul hears her and looks up with amusement.

“It looked like you threw it right at her face,” he says, “it was fucking hilarious.”

“Shut up, Matthews,” she says. Tom comes over to Becky and wraps an arm around her waist and kisses her cheek. People _aww_ and Emma pulls a face at Paul. He shakes his head in amusement. Bill is clapping Alice on the shoulder, but he is grinning. Clearly, he doesn’t think it’s time for her to get married yet.

Not long after the bouquet toss, Ben and Annie announce they are taking off. Cam is resting in Annie’s arms, blinking sleepily up at them as they say goodbye. Karen, Brody, and the girls decide to take off as well. The others remain for half an hour more, but then they begin leaving too.

In the end, only Bill, Alice and Deb and Tom, Becky and Tim remain. Tim is sitting on the porch, petting Lettuce and Emma pokes Tom so he can photograph it. “He has been so good today, entertaining Paul’s nieces,” she says, adding with a smile, “he’s great with younger kids.”

Tom smiles proudly, “yeah, he is. I think he had fun too.”

“I hope so,” Emma says. She has planned for the reception to end around this time, so she can have the rest of the night alone with Paul (and because she hadn’t saved up enough to afford a full meal for everyone) but she is considering inviting their remaining six guests to have dinner with them.

Before she can make her decision, Bill clears his throat. “I think we are gonna head home,” he says. Alice nods and stands up to get her things. Paul and Bill embrace, so Emma says her goodbyes to the two girls.

“You just text us tomorrow, and then we’ll come and help clean up,” Alice promises, before hugging Emma.

“Thanks, kid,” Emma says, “for all the help.”

“Of course,” Alice replies.

Paul hugs her next, so Emma thanks Bill as well. They follow the three of them out of the garden and wave at them as they leave. When Emma turns around, Tom and Becky are gathering their things. It feels almost a little sad to say goodbye to everyone, since it means the party is over. Paul seems close to tears after hugging Bill and Alice.

“This was such a wonderful wedding,” Becky tells them, and Paul hugs her tightly.

“Thank you so much for coming,” Emma says, looking up at Tom, “and for the help _and_ the gift.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom nods and claps her shoulder. Emma smiles and touches his arm in acknowledgement.

Paul and Tom shake hands and Emma smiles politely at Becky. “Thanks for the help and everything,” she says. And then she decides to move forward and give Becky a brief hug. It’s over fast and Emma clears her throat and nods. “Right,” she mutters, before saying goodbye to Tim.

“I am glad you came back to Hatchetfield,” Tim mumbles into her shoulder. “And that you met Paul.”

“Me too, kiddo,” Emma agrees and sighs deeply. There is a pause as they all look at each other until Becky waves the bouquet in goodbye.

And then their last guests have left the party.

Paul sighs and Emma looks up at him. “I wish this day could have lasted forever,” he says.

“Who says it’s over yet?” Emma asks, smirking.

“It isn’t?” Paul asks back, an eyebrow raised.

“Come on, dweeb,” Emma says and takes his hand. She tugs him with her up to the porch, where a lantern has been lit. It’s not dark yet, but the view of the garden and the twinkle lights look fantastic. “We haven’t had our first dance yet,” she says. She finds her phone and looks through it for a song to play. She grins as she makes her choice. “You’re getting the full, cliché experience, Paul.”

“Yeah?” he asks. And then the slow and beautiful melody of Elvis Prestley’s _I Can’t Help Falling In Love_ starts playing from her phone speaker. Paul grins. Emma places the phone on the nearby table, and steps closer to him. She lifts up her palm, while placing the other on his shoulder. Paul’s hand takes hers, and then he tentatively puts his other hand on her waist. “I can’t lead,” he says.

“Of course not,” Emma says with a chuckle and then she begins to lead.

They move around in a small circle, spinning slowly. Emma is certain she can count the times they have danced on one hand. It’s not something Paul initiates. Now, just like the first time they danced at a nightclub in downtown Hatchetfied, she gets drawn deep into his eyes and lose all sense of time and space.

It's quite magical and neither of them say a word as they listen to the music and look at each other. The song ends, but Emma had thought ahead, so it’s on repeat and starts up again. Paul reaction is a loving smile, and he let’s go of her hand, and instead holds her waist with both his. Their steps get a little smaller, as they sway to the music.

“This really is the greatest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Paul says, his eyes big and full of honesty and thankfulness.

Emma cracks a little smile. “I sure as shit hope so.” 

It makes him laugh loudly and he pulls her a little closer. “You’re such a dick,” he says fondly.

“Yeah,” she agrees, “you agreed to the terms again today, bub.”

“I did so gladly,” he smiles, “I mean, Emma – you did all of this. I don’t know how I’ll ever –“

“Paul,” she interrupts, “I did all of this because I love you. And because throughout this whole relationship you have let me set the pace and dictate what I am comfortable with. You never blamed me or got impatient.”

“Of course,” he says. They are still swaying, and she wraps her arms around his neck.

“So we’re even, ‘kay?” she says, “I don’t want you to even _think_ about making it up to me.”

“Okay,” he says with a smile, causing crinkles around his eyes.

“Unless of course we’re talking sexytimes,” she grins, “if you think I have been such a good wife today that you’re just dying to go down on me, I would never stop you.”

“Good to know,” he smirks. They fall silent for another bit of song and Emma’s chest feels like it might burst with how much she loves looking up at him. She’ll never get tired of the way he looks at her and how it makes her feel. She is home now. He is her family, her person.

“Did you enjoy today?” he asks.

“I did,” she replies, “we got those dope gifts, a spectacular cake and I got to wear this killer outfit.”

“Mhmm,” he responds, leaning closer, “that’s all?”

“And I got to watch your face experience it,” she adds, “I kind of love your face and therefore enjoy seeing it very happy.”

“Dweeb,” he responds, and then adds, “I am glad you enjoyed today. I didn’t want a wedding party if you were going to hate it.”

“I didn’t hate it,” she says, playing with some hair on the back of his head, “on the contrary in fact.”

“Good,” he nods, and then he closes the distance between them and kisses her deeply, pressing her up against him. Emma makes a pleased noise.

“So, what now?” he asks curiously.

Emma pretends to think it over. “The rest of our lives, I think.”

“Sounds good”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's.. over??  
> I can't believe it. I had so much fun writing this. I don't have any ideas right now, but I would love to write more for this 'verse.  
> I made a tumblr post with [Emma's wedding outfit](https://tutselutse.tumblr.com/post/633163069051305985/emmas-wedding-outfit).
> 
> I am proud of you if you made it through all these long ass chapters. Let me know if you spot a mistake bc editing this was overwhelming...


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